The Black Games
by Mrs Pettyfer
Summary: Once bound by ice, now bound by fire. 12 provinces. 24 tributes. 1 winner. Let the games begin.  Complete
1. Province 9

****Category: ****Avatar: Last Airbender

****Author:** **Mrs Pettyfer

****Title: ****The Black Games

****Pairing(s): ****Zuko/Katara. Possible other pairings.

**Genre: **Adventure/Angst/Romance

**Rating:** M - for violence and possible light language

**A/N:** This story is very AU and disregards most of seasons 1-3; however, it takes place about 70-80 years later. The "world" is more futuristic slightly and much different than the seasons we know. Please keep that in mind. I wanted to take the concept of The Hunger Games and transform it into the Avatar world. Hope you like it!

**Disclaimer:** The Avatar world and characters belong to Mike Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins.

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><p>"The world is is a dangerous place. Not because of the people who are evil; but because of the people who don't do anything about it." - <em>Albert Einstein<em>

**Chapter 1 - Province 9**

A distant grinding wakes me and my eyes snap open in alarm. I sit there for a moment, trying to recall the last few seconds of my dream. Most of its fuzzy but I distinctly remember shouting and smoke and fire. It's the same dream I have at least once a week, though it's a relief I didn't wake up screaming. I sit up from my bed and see Sokka staring at me intently, pausing from sharpening his blade. This explains the noise that had awoken me and I can tell by his expression he's also pleased there was no screaming. He's usually the one here to comfort me when that happens.

"Morning," he says, his tone crestfallen. He rises and places his sword in his sheath, grabbing a spear and heading toward the flap of our hut. "I'll meet you at the Poles."

I nod before adjusting my sarashi so it's fastened tightly around my chest before slipping into an arctic blue kimono tunic. Someone must have placed my boots by the crackling fire in the center of our hut, and I wiggle my toes against the fur inside. Soft and warm, just how I like. I adjust the circular pendant around my throat, one of the few keepsakes I have of my mother. I don't remember much about her; she died when I was only a year old, but my dad says my brother and I look a lot like her. The same dark hair, tan skin, and ocean blue eyes. Then again, almost everyone in Province 9 has that same look.

I finish adding a few extra layers – mittens, my fur coat, ear muffs – before stepping out from our hut.

Typically by this time in the morning Province 9 is crawling with Anglers and Trackers, carrying large nets and bags filled with game and heading toward the Palace. See, hunting is forbidden in Province 9 unless you're a registered Angler or Tracker. Only they are allowed to catch game from the sea or hunt the wild animals, as long as they deliver the majority to the Palace, where it's shipped out to other Provinces. The rest is sold to our butchers and shops, where we have to pay twice the amount its worth if we don't want to starve. My dad says every Province in the Fire Nation has a purpose; ours happens to be our arctic game and vessels advancement. You would think surrounded by the ocean would mean we had limitless supply in food, but that's certainly not the case.

Caldera City, the Fire Nation Capital, controls everything. We're surrounded by high walls of ice here in Province 9 – to keep out intruders we're told, but we know better. It's to keep us from leaving our province. Traveling to another province is illegal, punishable by imprisonment or even death. Few have tried, but they've all failed. They don't get very far and the Guards always catch them.

I pass a few of the Guards on the way to meet Sokka at the Poles, our secret meeting place where we're able to slip through the cracked walls and to the edge of our province. It's unchartered territory back there – fit with arctic hens, polar sea lions, turtle seals, and even the occasional buffalo yak. My dad taught Sokka and I how to hunt at a young age, and I've been able to incorporate some Waterbending techniques into it, hauling more fish than both of them combined. Even though I'm sixteen years old, my Waterbending is still very limited. Everything we learn in school is overviewed by the Capital and this includes bending. We learn enough to know the basics, but not enough to do anything harmful. Waterbending is allowed in our daily routines but never for an offensive attack. We know better than that, anyway.

Everyone is still paying the price for the last invasion on the Capital. It was on this very day over seventy-five years ago, on the Day of Black Sun –the one day all Firebenders were rendered powerless as an eclipse fell over our world. A group of rebels invaded the Capital in attempt to overthrow the late Fire Lord Azulon, leader of the Fire Nation. The rebels fought well until the Firebenders regained power and the young Fire Lord was so furious he killed all the rebels and established the Black Games.

The Fire Lord issued today as the official Day of Black Sun and every year on this day, each of the twelve provinces must send forth one boy and one girl tribute between the ages of twelve and eighteen to compete in the Black Games. The Games typically last anywhere between one to five weeks and the rules are simple:

Stay alive.

The the last person standing alive, the victor, is rewarded with prizes for their province; food, supplies and medicine amongst them. Here in Province 9, we've only had five victors in the past seventy-five years, three of which have died from age or disease. Typically the victors hail from Provinces 1, 2, 3, 6, and 7 though Province 1 has won easily the most times. Which is no real surprise, considering the Capital is at the heart of Province 1. The kids that come from there look like they've been training for this event their entire lives. They aren't the half starved, miserable and helpless kind we have here.

I pass another group of Guards all wearing their traditional black and red armor with metal masks and spot the Head Guard Meng amongst them. She tugs at her mask and smiles at me, and I tell her I'll drop off the fish I gather in the next few hours. Even though I'm not an Angler or Tracker and am technically breaking the law, our Guards tend to give a blind eye to me and some of the other unregistered hunters, the ones that know what they're doing. The Guards are all from the four Fire Provinces, most of them Firebenders. They despise the cold, says it goes against their own nature, which is probably why they're a bit more lenient with our hunting. I bring them whatever I'm able to kill, and they pretend my knife and spear is a fashion statement.

The Guards may enforce the Fire Lord's law, but they don't get special food brought in from their provinces. They eat whatever our Anglers and Trackers manage to find, and they live in igloos created by our finest Waterbenders. Only the wealthier members of Province 9 live in igloos as well, like the Chief his family, but the rest of us live in huts we made from animal skins, pelts and bamboo.

I don't complain though. As long as our Head Guard keeps trading me arctic hens for soap and herbs, my family can manage to get by. Even though I know Meng likes me, if I was ever actually _caught_ hunting she'd have to punish me. So before I slip into an open crack in the icy wall, I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching.

Sokka is already tying a heavy rope around a dead polar-seal lion when I find him at our usual place we nicknamed the Poles. My dad told us long ago Province 9 was known as the Northern Water Tribe of the North Pole. That before Caldera City seized power there were no provinces, but four nations that lived in unity. I couldn't imagine it, four distinct nations holding their own set of customs and laws apart from the Capital. But I guess it makes sense, considering there are four types of benders in our world. They had to hail from somewhere.

My dad keeps a tattered map in our hut. One that was drawn years and years before he was born that was passed down through our family. There are large red marks across several areas in the world, places my dad says are no longer present with people but used at the Capital's expenses. Some I know by memory were once called the Northern Air Temple and the place my family hailed from, the Southern Water Tribe. It was overtaken by the Capital years before my father was born, and all the remaining survivors were forced to live here, now Province 9. I wonder what it was like, if there were tall ice walls that keep everyone trapped inside, or if there was as much snow. I guess I'll never know for sure, though.

"I thought you were waiting for me," I say to Sokka, setting down my spear.

"I was going to but I saw this big guy and couldn't pass him up," he says. "Haven't seen a polar-seal lion in months."

"Kami will pay well," I say, tightening the ropes around the creature. There's a bloody hole punctured through its chest from Sokka's spear but I cannot afford to pity it. We need the money too much. "You know how she loves blubbered seal jerky."

I try to pretend today is like an ordinary day. Sokka and I spending the morning hunting, bad-mouthing the Capital under our breaths before we take our bounty to the White House; the black market hidden in the deeper parts of Province 9.

"Dad said to be back around noon," says Sokka. "He left early this morning to make a few trades around town."

I nod, remaining silent. No one is required to go to work or school on the Day of Black Sun. At two o'clock in the afternoon, everyone is forced to go to the square in front of the Palace for the reaping. A woman from the Capital named Joo Dee acts as our Province 9 escort, and she draws the names of the two tributes before they're shipped back to the Capital to prepare for the Games. I've only got two more years to suffer the reaping, but my name is down twenty times.

When a child turns twelve, their name goes into the reaping once. Every year following, another slip is added. This would mean I would only have five slips this year, but the Capital began offering tesserae in exchange for adding your name more times to the reaping. Every tesserae is good for a meager year's supply of oil and thread for one person, and you can take it out for as many people in your family. Sokka had been taking it out since he was twelve, and was furious when I did the same. The winters are harsh here in Province 9 and we can never have enough thread. Our dad works hard as a Tracker but it isn't always enough. We all pitch in and do what we can to survive.

I move to the edge of the tundra, staring out over the ocean. This is my favorite place in Province 9 because it's outside the ice walls. The Guards must know I cross the territory, but they also know I won't make a break for it. My dad and Sokka would be punished, and when I was caught I'd be killed. But it was still a beautiful view with the snowy ice caps, broken in bits over the crystal blue water. The edge of the ocean, going on for miles and miles, giving me hope that we're not alone in this world. It may feel like the edge of a map, but I know it's not. Somehow that makes me feel better, knowing this prison isn't the end of the world.

That somewhere, life is going on.

A couple hours later Sokka and I return to our hut with a few extra bars of soap, fresh sea prunes, a new pair of mittens for our dad, and a loaf of fresh baked bread. We have one Firebender here in Province 9 who isn't a Guard, but married to our Head Healer Kami. They own the only bakery in Province 9, and Kami always trades well for the jerky meat. She's also the one that taught me almost everything I know about Waterbending and the human body. She taught me about our blood and veins, about how understanding the body can help you learn how to heal. Kami says only a select few Waterbenders are able to heal with their bending, and I have yet to prove to be one of them.

As far as I know, only three benders in all of Province 9 are able to do it. Sure, most Waterbenders can nurse someone back to health or heal minor injuries, but a true advanced healer can bring someone back from the brink of death. I may not have mastered this technique yet but I won't stop trying.

"I'm going to change," Sokka mutters suddenly, slipping behind a hanging animal skin flap into our back room. "Wear something pretty."

It thoroughly irritates me that we have to wear our nicest clothes under our fur coats on the Day of Black Sun. I don't have any desire to impress the Capital in any way, chosen tribute or not. I've heard stories from the Guards that the Capital's way of living far exceeds our own. Their weapons and technological advancement is enough in itself.

In front of the Palace is a gigantic flat screen that looks like thin white animal skin. I'm not sure how it works, but the Capital's Mechanist whom I hear all about has created a way for the Fire Lord to deliver messages without doing so in person or in written messages. His face appears on the screen, is able to talk and move as if standing right before our eyes, yet he's miles away.

This is where the Black Games are watched, on this enormous screen in the center of Province 9. I've heard the Chief actually has one of these screens in his home, a smaller version, but I'm not for certain. I've never asked his daughter Yue, even though we take a few lessons together. She's always been very kind but Sokka's always been a little resentful toward her, considering she doesn't have to take out tesserae. Her name will only be in the reaping five times this year.

The Guards only force everyone to watch the first day of the Games, though almost everyone in the province watches the entire process: the training, the interviews, the chariot arrivals, and of course, the Games. There's some device that's able to watch or record these events, sending them somehow onto the large screens across the Fire Nation. Again I'm no mechanist, and Sokka has been studying intensely on trying to figure out the screen but to no prevail. The Capital doesn't share their secrets.

Sokka claims it must be magic, but I don't know if I believe him.

I always thought if no one watched the Games, the Capital would be forced to discontinue them. But as it always happens, and even though we know how horrible the Games are, people can't help but watch. I remember the first time my dad took me hunting, I was only four, and he shot a polar leopard with a spear straight to its heart. There was blood everywhere, pouring from the animal's chest and mouth. But it wasn't dead. My dad told me to close my eyes so he could finish and I did, but at the last moment I had to open them.

I guess that's how people work. Even though we don't want to watch, we do because we feel like we have to.

I dress in my usual reaping outfit. I keep my kimono tunic and fur trimmed leggings but swap my usual fur coat for a long flowing one. White fur wraps around my neck and my sleeves, trailing along the edges and resting along the ground. It's a hand-me-down from my mother, and even bares resemblance to the one worn by Princess Yue, though mine's much older and worn in.

I twist my dark hair into its usual long braid, adjusting the loops to secure a few dangling strands. Sokka emerges dressed in his warrior armor, fit with metal plates around his forearms and heavy looking shoulder plates. I've got my plates on my arms too, along with black gloves and wrappings hidden beneath my coat. I may have to look like a lady on the outside, but I'm a warrior on the inside.

The walk to the square is short, my dad leading the way. The icy streets are crowded with Guards and members of Province 9 alike. The Capital has sent more Guards for this event, as they always do, to make sure we don't do anything rash. About three years ago, a thirteen year old girl had tried to make a run for it after she had been chosen as tribute. She didn't get far before her back was lashed repeatedly with a fire whip numerous times.

After my dad signs us all in –attendance is mandatory– we embrace quickly. Goodbyes are not my strongest, and I allow Sokka to kiss me lightly on the forehead as I make my way over to the roped area marked for sixteen-year-olds. I recognize several kids in my group, while others are completely unfamiliar to me. Province 9 isn't one of the largest by any means of the Fire Nation, but today is the only day everyone is in the same place. I smile weakly to my friend Hope, who stands several feet away with her arms crossed tightly and her long black hair braided like mine.

I try to find Sokka over in the seventeen's but I'm not tall enough to see over everyone. I glance to the Palace, up the icy covered stairs and stare at two large glass balls filled with tiny pieces of parchment. I remember my name is written on twenty of those pieces. I try not to think about it, and even more so about how Sokka has around twenty seven.

The large screen that hangs in front of the square mirrors the anxious expressions of everyone around me. The moving pictures are fuzzy, like looking through water and completely black and white. The Guards and our province mechanist installed the enormous screen about six years ago. Before the screen, the Games were only watched at the actual arena by those who could pay the hefty price and the family of the tributes. Everyone else had to rely on a messenger hawk, gathering in the square at dusk every evening, and our Head Guard would read the deaths that occurred during that day. The anticipation of knowing these tributes were fighting to the death in another part of the world, while we were carrying on our daily routines, made for a very uncomfortable few weeks.

Now that we had the screen, we were able to watch everything that was happening. At first I thought this might be for the better, until my friend Akaya had been chosen two years ago as tribute. She was my age, fourteen at the time, and a skilled Waterbender. She was tied to a wooden post and burned alive by a boy tribute from Province 2, simply because she had stolen some of his bread while he was sleeping.

I watched the entire thing and had nightmares for a week.

The chairs on the Palace dais begin filling and I recognize Chief Arnook, a gentle man with a suffering and hardened expression. His black hair is long and streaked with grey, tied in pieces with blue beads that match his eyes. His daughter Yue sat next to him, her white hair as lovely as the snow covering the Palace and wearing a long, willowy blue dress with fur around the collar. The next two chairs are filled with our past victors, Master Pakku and Hama.

Pakku looks like he always does; mouth set in a hard line, white wispy hair and long goatee, narrowed silver eyes. He's our leading Waterbending instructor, but he refuses to work with girls. He always chooses the male tribute to mentor, and leaves Hama to the female. I've never met either of them, but for some reason Hama scares me a little more than even Pakku. At first glance she looks like a gentle old woman with grey-white hair that falls like curtains around wrinkled and worn down face. She always wears ragged clothing despite the amount of wealth she obtained from winning.

As it stands, Hama remains the youngest victor to ever win the Black Games. She was only ten back then, when the age bracket had been between ten and seventeen. The Games were only watched by an elite crowd at the time, and Hama being so small was able to avoid being seen by both the viewers and the tributes. Still to this day, no one knows exactly how she won. Several Elites – the group that are actually in charge of the Games and present in the arena – claimed the last three tributes simply dropped dead, leaving Hama the victor, but the idea seems impossible to me. Still though, Hama mentors the female tribute but I've heard refuses to give any information on how she won.

It doesn't seem very fair to me.

The Chief begins his opening speech and I tune it out, having heard it what feels like dozens of times. He goes on about the history of the Games, about why there is no longer an Avatar, about the Capital, about how proud we should feel to contribute to such a wonderful nation. I know he's just saying these things because we're being watched; that this gathering will later be shown on the screens across the world. There are several Guards stationed around the square, holding medium sized black boxes and rotating a handle in a circular motion, a small circular looking piece of glass in the middle. Sokka told me these are called Watchers, the devices that are able to record everything that's going on. Our province mechanist – a thin, balding man named Lu – says they're complex instruments made of a mixture of Fire Province materials and advanced bending.

And magic, Sokka would add.

I sigh deeply as the Chief is replaced by one of the most annoying women known to man. Joo Dee practically glides to the center of the dais with a ridiculously large smile on her face, one that no one reciprocates. Her grey eyes are piercing and large, reminding me of the fire hawks that deliver messages around the province. Her black hair is stick straight and falling just below her shoulders. She's wearing a very plain, beige colored dress with flowing sleeves, and a matching parka. There isn't an ounce of color in her wardrobe, as always, and she appears just as dull as ever. If only her personality was the same.

"Happy Black Games everyone! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" Her voice comes out robotic and slightly pitchy. She reminds me of a machine, programmed to act a certain way. If only she had an _off_ button, I'd be satisfied.

I think of my twenty slips and Sokka's twenty seven while glancing around. Sure there were plenty of kids to be chosen, but were the odds in our favor? With nearly fifty slips total, I'm not so sure they are. As Joo Dee begins talking about the late Avatar Roku, I begin to wonder what kind of lifestyle it must have been years ago. The Avatar was said to be able to control all four elements, and brought peace and balance to the world. Some part of me, buried deep past desperation and hope, believes someday the Avatar will return. That the cycle will cease to be broken, but I'm not sure how.

It's time for the drawing, and I tense as Joo Dee bounds toward the large glass balls. She slips her pale hand into the one marked for males, and the crowd grows silent. I can practically hear my heart beating in my chest as she unfolds the tiny piece of parchment. I barely have time to brace myself when she reads in a clear and confident voice,

"I give you your Province 9 male tribute! Sokka, son of Hakoda and Kya, now deceased."

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><p><strong>AN: **Hope you liked it! This is my first story in first person, present tense, so I apologize for slip ups. Anyway you'll notice a bit of canon 'history' like the Day of Black Sun. However keep in mind the timing is different in this story than it was in the episodes. Just to clarify, the entire 'avatar world' is now known as the Fire Nation, broken into provinces.

Thanks for reading!


	2. The Tributes

**A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed so far. I really appreciate it and look forward to hearing what you think on this chapter. Something I want to add, I realize even 80 years into the future from season 3 there wouldn't be televisions..but for the sake of this story, there has to be. I've tried to make them as un-modernly as possible. :P But don't worry, this story will still have the same feel the show does..not another modern take. There will be some modern advancements, but the screens are as advanced as it gets. Enjoy the chapter!**

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><p>"There's a fire starting in my heart,<br>Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark." - _Rolling in the Deep_, Adele

**Chapter 2 - The Tributes**

When I was about seven, my dad took me ice fishing for the first time. The Head Guard back then was a cruel and harsh man named Nico, so we had to do it in secret, especially since my dad's a not a registered Angler.

I had been so excited when I noticed my pole dancing that I sprinted across the ice and slipped, landing flat on my back. It felt as if the hard impact had knocked every breath and life out of me as I lay there motionless, trying to remember how to breathe.

That's how I feel now, as I watch Sokka making his way toward the dais on the large screen hanging in front of the Palace. There's a ringing in my head. I can hear Joo Dee's horrible voice shouting _Sokka, Sokka, Sokka_ over and over. I want to scream, to run to him, to stop him from doing this, but I can't. I'm too numb to move.

I remember getting angry at Sokka earlier this year, and rather than hitting him or something crazy like that I decided to freeze his feet to the ground so he was unable to move. It had been funny at the time, but now it doesn't seem so funny anymore since I understand the feeling—frozen on the spot, and unable to move. And my feet aren't even frozen to the ground.

Sokka's expression is hard when he stands in front of the crowd, the murmuring dying to hushed whispers. My brother is relatively known throughout Province 9, whether because of his dealings in the White House, his charismatic behavior, or his joke telling over at the Dark Room. Typically those under eighteen years old aren't allowed in the small restaurant that's normally swarming with Trackers and Anglers, but Sokka has a way with persuasion and the Guards seem to like him.

As I stare at him, it's like looking a stranger. He isn't smiling. His blue eyes are as cold as ice. His jaw is set in the way I know he's in deep thought, and his shoulders are squared off as though he's about to go into battle.

Technically, I remind myself, he is.

Joo Dee asks him a few questions but I've tuned them out. I can't hear anything, and I wonder where my dad is in the crowd. I continue to search Sokka's face, wishing he'd look at me, but I suspect he's avoiding my section. Joo Dee asks for volunteers, as another male who is eligible may take his place but I already know it won't happen. I've never seen anyone volunteer, and my dad says he only witnessed it once. What kind of person would _volunteer_ to go to the Games, anyway?

By the time Joo Dee reaches into the second glass ball, I barely have time to wish for my own safety when she pauses, looking uncomfortable for the first time since her arrival and says in a smaller voice,

"Your female Province 9 tribute…Princess Yue, daughter of Chief Arnook and Kita."

The crowd is stunningly silent. Yue's face is as white as her hair, and the Chief begins protesting with Joo Dee and soon the Guards are flanking the stage, pushing the Chief and his wife back.

"I am so sorry, Chief Arnook, but rules are rules," Joo Dee is saying. She seems genuinely upset by this and begins asking for volunteers with a large amount of enthusiasm. The crowd grows silent, and I'm half surprised no one is willing to volunteer for their princess. Then I remind myself, what kind of person would willingly place themselves in a death arena?

"I volunteer!"

Oh, I guess I'm one of those people.

Without realizing what I'm doing, I begin knocking people out of the way as I move toward the stage. I hear gasps and shocked murmurs but I ignore them, my eyes set on my brother—he's now standing as still as a statue. His blue eyes are bluer than I have ever seen when I reach the dais. Yue, standing next to him, looks like she has seen a ghost and the Chief is no longer thrashing in one of the Guard's arms, but staring at me in a mix of horror and relief.

After regaining her composure, Joo Dee beams at me as I walk up the stairs and face the crowd.

"A volunteer?" She doesn't bother hiding her surprise. "How…that's…so unexpectedly pleasant! And what is your name?"

"Katara!"

It isn't my voice—much too masculine and deep, yet very familiar. Sokka is now shaking me, gripping my arms tightly with a desperate look in his eye. "What are you doing?"

"I—"

"No!" he shouts. "I won't let you do this!"

"It's done, Sokka," I say, swallowing down what feels like broken pieces of glass. I look away from his face before I start crying. He releases my arms because he knows it's too late, that I volunteered and there is no going back.

"Do you…know each other?" Joo Dee asks, looking interested. The crowd is deathly silent. All the Watcher's are turned on us.

"He's my brother," I say, because it seems like the question is directed at me.

"Oh my! Oh my, indeed!" Joo Dee's smile is blinding and she gives a nervous laugh. "Didn't want him to get all the glory, is that so? A little sibling rivalry…that's the spirit of the Games!"

I want to argue that it isn't true, that I volunteered for Yue because I didn't want my brother to face death alone, but I realize my throat is clogged and I may start crying if I speak again. So I say nothing, and let the Chief close the ceremony with the sound of the Guards playing the Fire Nation anthem over the Palace.

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><p>I had forgotten how nice the Palace is, as I wait in one of the rooms for my visitors. The chairs and couches are adorned with furry white pelts, the icy walls thick and smooth. I must be in a guestroom, because a large bed covered in more white pelts dominates the space. A small table sits in the middle of the room with a silver tray covered with different cheeses, breads, and exotic fruits that must have come from another province. Even though it smells wonderful, I feel too sick to eat.<p>

In an hour I'll be on a ship, sailing to Province 1 and in a month I'll probably be dead.

It was hard to eat, exotic and rich foods or not, when you had that sort of mentality. But who could blame me? There's a reason there's only been five victors from Province 9 and I know my chances are slim to none. Besides if _I win_, that means Sokka will be dead.

I still lose, no matter how this ends.

When my first visitor arrives, I'm shocked to find that it isn't my dad, but Princess Yue. Her blue eyes are wide with fear and she rushes over, pulling me into a tight hug. I try not to show the shock I feel on my face, because while I consider Yue and I as acquaintances, I'm not sure I'd say we were good friends. Royalty doesn't exactly mingle with the poor kids from the province, no matter how nice they are.

"Thank you for what you did," she says, releasing me. "I know you volunteered because of your brother, but I'm still grateful."

I try to smile, but I know it looks hollow and weak. Yue has an anxious expression on her face as she pulls something tiny from her robes.

"You're allowed to wear one thing from your province in the arena," she says. "I want you to take this, and wear it." She holds out what looks like a narrow, tear-drop shaped amulet that's crystal blue and sparkles like the sun hitting the ocean. A tiny half moon is perched on the top, like a fancy bottle stopper. It looks very expensive.

"What is it?" I ask, taking the necklace and slipping it over my head. My fingers brush my mother's pendant and I freeze. "Wait…I was going to wear my mother's necklace. I can't take this, Yue."

"You must," she insists. "Katara, this is from the Spirit Oasis. It's something I was given as a child, and my father told me I'd know when to use it. And somehow I know I'm supposed to give it to you."

The Spirit Oasis is a place buried deep within Province 9, a place forbidden to common people like me. It's supposed to be very spiritual with the energies of the moon and ocean spirits.

I try to connect this place with Yue's necklace. Something isn't clicking.

"I don't understand what this is, exactly. I mean," I try to keep the indifference out of my voice, "it's certainly a beautiful necklace, but—"

"It contains special healing properties," Yue cuts in. "And I don't mean like the healing you've seen Kami do. This is actual _blessed_ water. From the tears of Tui and La."

I give the tiny vile a shake. "It's empty."

Yue smiles. She's very pretty, I notice. Her white hair is done up in elegant twists and beads, and her dress is elaborate with various shades of blue and white fur. I was ignorant to think mine looked as glorious as hers.

"It will only appear when you truly need it most," she says.

"But won't I be cheating if I use it?"

"If the Elites examine it and allow you to wear it, then they can't go back on their word. Many tributes have worn things they've been able to turn into weapons, anyway." She makes a face. "I suppose it adds to the entertainment."

My dad visits next, and I can tell by the look on his face he's already visited Sokka. I waste no time rushing into his arms, letting him hold me tightly on his lap, like he did when I was a little girl. Usually I'm the strong one, the one that comforts everyone else but I decide to give myself a break. We sit like that for awhile in silence. He strokes my hair softly, and I let myself cry just a little.

When I pull away from him, I can see the damage I've done in his eyes. Watching one of his children die would be torture, but to watch all your children go through it…it was unimaginable. And it was because of me he'd have to suffer that.

"Please don't be mad at me," I say desperately, because I can't imagine going off into the Games with him being upset, "for volunteering."

"I'm not angry with you, Katara," he says, placing a few fallen strands of hair behind my ear. His tan face is withered and worn out, deep creases running across his forehead. "I'm only sad. Sad that I can't protect you and your brother."

"We'll protect each other." I stare at the beads that hang from his dark hair, because I can't look at him any longer without crying some more.

"You are strong, Katara. Like your brother, like me, and like your mother."

"I don't know enough about bending…"

"But you can hunt," he says, clutching my hands. "You know how to build a shelter, how to start a fire, and how to find food. You know how to survive. And how to kill."

"I don't want to kill anyone," I whisper.

"I know" he says, pulling me close again. "I know."

When the Guards come to take him away, I begin to panic. There's a thousand things I want to say, things I wish I would have told him earlier, things I regret doing, but I find myself saying none of these things.

"Keep this." I take off my mom's necklace and force it into his hands. "In case something happens to me."

I don't need to say _when_ something happens to me. It's pretty inevitable, but I don't want to say it out loud.

"Katara, no," he says, trying to hand it back to me. But the Guards are already moving him out. "Remember who you are! Do not give up! There's always light, even in the darkest places."

"I know," I say, swallowing back tears. "I love you, dad."

And then the door shuts, and the last thing I see of my dad is his glassy blue eyes and heart-wrenching expression.

Joo Dee escorts my brother and I onto a large cruiser that I know was made in Province 1. It's much more regal than the vessels we have here in Province 9, and I can't help think to myself how much of a waste it is. The ship is huge, made of black metal with a large tower in the center—gold rooftops and red-glass windows adorning it. The bow is also rimmed in gold and pointy, a design that looks very unfamiliar to me. Where our ships are smooth, this is all points and daggers.

The ship is crowded with Guards and a few men carrying those funny little boxes that I know is recording my face. Watchers, I remember Sokka calling them. Joo Dee issues them away before they can ask too many questions, and leads us through the center tower and down a flight of metal stairs until we reach our rooms.

I'm surprised by the size of my chamber and immediately move around to examine everything. A large bed sits low to the ground, dominating the center of the room and covered with a shiny black material. I touch it, and its silky smooth, reminding me of water slipping through my fingers.

There are two large wardrobes on one side of the room, and another door that leads to a bathroom. I'm instantly drawn to the claw footed tub. When I turn one of the gold handles, I jump in surprise as hot, steamy water comes out. When we take a bath back at home, we have to gather our water ourselves in a large bucket and pour it into the tub. If we want to take a hot bath, we have to pay extra for a Guard to heat the water.

I can't help myself and slip out of my clothes and into the tub. I turn the hot water handle on and let the warm water coat me all over. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the cool edge of the tub. To have this much water at my own leisure, for it to be free and warm, is enough to take my mind away from the Games, if only for a little bit.

Joo Dee interrupts my bliss sometime later, pointing at the wardrobes and telling me to choose whatever outfit I wish, and tells me that supper will be ready in an hour and my presence is mandatory.

I'm a little disappointed when I rummage through the drawers because everything seems to be red or black or gold. Fire Province colors. And, judging by the sleeveless shirts and shorter styled skirts, I can see the style is just the same.

I sigh as I pick out an outfit, already missing home and the familiar color of blue. I settle on a crimson sleeveless half shirt that leaves one of my shoulders bare, with a matching colored pant and skirt overlay. It may be cold outside the ship, but inside fire is blazing everywhere, heating the inside to the point that I had been sweating in my parka.

I remember Yue's necklace and place it around my neck. I smile when I glance in the mirror. At least I'm wearing something familiar and blue, but I can't help a pang of sadness because it's not my mother's necklace. If I'm going to die, I feel like I should be wearing it. But at the same time I can't stand the thoughts of that necklace being lost in the arena. This thought alone had prompted my decision to give it to my dad.

Joo Dee comes to collect me for supper and I follow her through the dimly lit corridors and narrow passages. We reach the dining hall, located in the center of the ship, and I'm a little surprised to admit the view is spectacular. The dining hall is in the center tower, surrounded by red tinted glass and allowing guests view the ocean. Men and women dressed in ivory robes are bustling around the table, setting up last minute dishes. I can smell something sweet and already feel my mouth watering.

Sokka is stuffing his face, while Master Pakku and Hama are sitting across from him with indifferent expressions. I automatically take my seat next to my brother. He smiles at me through a mouthful of rice as Joo Dee takes a seat at the head of the table. She gives Sokka a scowl before plastering on a fake smile, as though determined her meal won't be ruined by his rudeness,

"I believe proper introductions are in order," she says brightly. "Sokka and Katara, this is Master Pakku and Hama, your mentors for the Games." She turns toward the victors. "Sokka here is a warrior, and Katara is a Waterbender."

Master Pakku laughs, though it isn't the sort that makes you want to join in. It's steely and harsh, the sound of a man who has forgotten how a laugh is supposed to sound, or else mocks it for all it's worth.

"I don't see a warrior and a Waterbender," he says coldly. "I see a boy who only cares for his stomach and a scared little girl."

Sokka and I both make noises of protest, but my voice carries over his,

"I'm _not_ a little girl and I'm _not_ scared!"

"Then I suggest you prove it." Pakku leans back in his seat, his grey eyes narrowing to slits.

"Give me a chance and I will."

"I don't mentor girls," he says. "Hama will be your mentor, and I will be Sokka's."

"What if you have something to offer me?" I demand. I wasn't sure if Hama was a Waterbender or not, but Pakku was the best.

"To _offer_ you?" I knew immediately by his tone this had been the wrong thing to say. "I am a Master Waterbender, and you are nothing. I have everything to offer. But I will _not_ train you and I will not mentor you."

"But I'm strong!" I'm half shouting, blinded by anger. "And I'm tough!"

"Tough isn't enough!"

"Katara…" It's Sokka, holding my arm gently. I rip it from his grasp. I'm past the point of going back. I'm in full fledge now, running down the hill, unable to stop.

"What good are you, anyway, if you aren't willing to help the tributes?" I ask heatedly. "Don't you _want_ to help us win?"

"The rules are one mentor per tribute and—"

"I don't care!" I shout. "Why can't both of you mentor the both of us?" I shoot my furious glare to Hama, who has remained silent so far. She has a watchful expression, hidden beneath her sunken cheeks and eyes. There was something in her face that reminded me of my deceased grandmother and it gives me chills.

"And why would we do that?" Hama inquires. Her voice is raw, as though she hasn't used it in years.

"Because we're on the same side," Sokka chimes in. "The whole point of every tribute having a mentor is so they have someone on the outside looking out for them. But Katara and I…we're going through this together."

"There can only be one victor," says Pakku, looking amused. "Tell me Sokka, do you plan on slaying your sister should you two make it to the end?"

Sokka looks like he wants to throw up. "No," he says quietly. "If we both make it to the end, I'll end my own life."

"_Sokka_!"

"I don't want to hear it, Katara," he says, holding up a hand. "Dad already knows it's my plan and I'm sticking with it, even if I have to drive a knife right through my heart."

I sit back in my chair, horrified, and unable to speak.

After the last of the cinnamon pudding is eaten— a delicacy so wonderful it distracted me from Sokka's ridiculous plan— Joo Dee issues us to a large room with paneled walls and a long, wooden table set with ten velvet covered chairs. A smaller version of one of the Palace screens is set at the head of the table.

"What are we doing?" I ask, taking a seat. A cup of steaming tea is set in front of me but I'm so full I push it aside.

Several Guards begin fiddling with something behind the screen and I see a crackle of fire. Sokka attempts to see what they're doing. One snaps at him and he takes a seat next to me, scowling.

"We're watching a recap of the reapings," says Pakku. I'm still too angry at him to look him in the eye. "Gives us the first look at your competitors."

A light flashes from the back of the room, illuminating the screen. One by one, the reapings are shown and we get to examine the faces of our competition. This is the first time I see a glimpse of the other provinces, and I'm surprised to find that they're completely different than what I imagined. I only wish the moving pictures were in color so I had a more accurate image in my head.

Sokka watches the reapings in quiet calculation. A few tributes stand out in my mind: a tall, brooding girl with heavy black hair and a cold expression from Province 2. A handsome boy with strong shoulders and wavy, brown hair from Province 6. A young boy with a bald head and wide, kind eyes from Province 11. A blind girl, only fourteen years old, from Province 8. My heart breaks when I watch her tiny figure make her way to the stage.

They left Province 1 for last, as they always do for the previous winning province every year. Even though the pictures are black and white, I can see the regal stage and surrounding structures. The Fire Lord makes his usual appearance as he prepares himself to name off the two selected tributes. He's very handsome, with long dark hair and pointed goatee. His eyes appear light and sparkling—the kind I associate with the Guards—and yet at the same time they're hard and cold. The crowd falls silent and I feel something flutter in my chest,

"The male and female tributes selected for Province 1 are our very own, Prince Zuko and Princess Azula."

My eyes widen to enormous proportions and Sokka jumps from his seat. Pakku and even Joo Dee appear to be speechless, and Hama makes a noise of protest. The screen zooms in on the prince and princess to catch their reactions.

The prince is shown first, holding nothing but blind rage behind his light eyes. Even without knowing who he is, I'd know this boy could fight. He's tall and muscular, but not quite as much as the boy tribute from Province 2, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw. He might be handsome, but it's hard to tell. A large scar surrounds his left eye, and his expression is murderous. As he begins swearing to an elder man behind him, the Watcher moves to the princess.

I wonder what her initial expression was because now she looks frighteningly calm. I can see the family resemblance. She's very pretty with the same dark hair and light eyes, but there's something dark lingering in her expression. She isn't dressed like most of the girl tributes, but rather in expensive armor that mirrors her brother's. Her eyes though, I'm sure I won't forget them. They're like liquid fire.

When the screen shuts off, Sokka is the one to break the tension.

"The _Fire Lord's_ children? They selected his children for the reaping, heirs to the throne?"

When a province wins, rather than a random reaping, they're allowed to vote on their chosen tributes the next year. Typically this gives them an advantage because they usually vote for those most likely to win. But royalty is hardly ever seen in the arena.

"Of course not," says Hama. "This is the Fire Lord's doing, I'm sure of it."

"What do you mean?" The shock of seeing another set of siblings—royal siblings, at that—is enough for me to forget my anger at Pakku. I direct my question at him.

"It's the Fire Lord's way of making this the most memorable Black Game's of all time," he says. His expression is harder than I have ever seen. "And it will be. You can count on that."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So now you know a few of the tributes. Any guesses who else will be selected? Thanks for reading..please take the time to review if you read. Positive or negative, I appreciate your feedback.** =)

**Since the next chapter is in the works, here's a preview:**

**'I turn to Sokka, expecting his bravado to get the best of him, but find myself jaw locked in surprise. He's waving, smiling. Working the crowd and putting on a show. I'm speechless, unable to react to all this attention. Flowers are thrown at us, fireworks are going off, and I can hear my name being chanted now rather than _Province Nine_.'**


	3. Caldera City

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! Your feedback keeps me wanting to write this story. =) Just letting you all know, updates will be quick until I get to the actual games. Those will be much tougher to write, and probably take me longer to update. So enjoy the quick updates while you can! lol Hope you like the chapter.**

* * *

><p>"Everything's going to change now, isn't it?" - <em>Hermione Granger<em>, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

**Chapter 3 - Caldera City**

When we arrive near the Capital three days later, Joo Dee rushes Sokka and I to the main level so we don't miss anything. We pass under the Great Gates of Azulon—a large statue of the so called Fire Lord standing in the middle of the sea entrance, flanked on either side by two stone dragons. My dad has mentioned the enormous gate to me before—said that it was built in honor of Azulon not being defeated on the Day of Black Sun.

"Katara, look!"

When we enter the bay, what looks like ropes of fire burst from the statue of Azulon, trapping us on the inside and blurring my vision of the ocean.

Once bound by ice, now bound by fire.

I wince and turn away from the fire. The bay appears to be a village of sorts. Stone buildings with red pagoda-style roofs nestled into tropical fauna. Docks and ships of all sizes resting at the shore. The village sits at the base of an enormous volcano, stretching wide and high into the sky.

Joo Dee informs us this is Province 2, located just outside Caldera City. The houses are square in shape and moderately sized, some trimmed in gold and large fountains adorning the front. I can see now why the Province 2 tributes typically look so well fed and last long in the Games. There is nothing poor or needy about this province. Everything is shiny and luminous.

When we finally make port, we're issued inside a carriage that we're told will lead us up the path to the Capital. This surprises me slightly as I hadn't realized the Capital was actually _inside_ a volcano. Even though we're still surrounded by the ocean, everything about it is different. Its bluer, lighter in color even, and I can smell salt and something sweet in the air. It's humid, the air causing my hair to stick to the back of my neck. I don't want to admit it, but it's beautiful, albeit a little hotter than I'd prefer.

I'm wearing another outfit I had chosen from the wardrobe on the ship, but I carry my mother's coat in my arms, refusing to leave it behind. Maybe I'll never wear it again, but I'll be damned if it's thrown overboard and lost into the sea.

Ugh.

Now that I think about it, I wish I had left it with my dad, like I had done with my necklace.

"When we arrive at the Capital, you'll meet your stylists. It's their job to make you presentable," says Pakku. "Don't argue with them. The more attractive you are, the more likely sponsors will like you and let's face it…" his eyes swept over me in a degrading manner, his lip curling, "you need all the help you can get."

As much as I don't want to admit it, I know he's right. Well, partially. For some reason it seems like the better looking tributes always get a lot of sponsors. And if Sokka and I don't get sponsors, we're as good as dead. Sponsors are the only ones allowed to send the tributes gifts once inside the Games. I've seen deadly weapons sent into the arena, expensive medicine, fire-resistant shields, you name it. As the Games go on, the gifts get more expensive. And that's when it really counts.

Those last few days—the ones who determine whether you live or die. That's when Sokka and I will need gifts. If we make it that far, that is.

The ride into the city is smooth and surprisingly pleasant with the warm air and bright sun beating down on me. As we roll past a tall, regal golden gate, Sokka and I hang our heads out the window to catch our first glimpse of Province 1, the Capital City of our nation.

I try to remember the images from the screens, from the stories I've been told, but they don't seem to capture the grandeur that I see before me: glistening buildings of gold and red that tower into the air. Sleek paved roads. Shiny carriages and other contraptions I've never seen before rolling down the wide streets. Regally dressed people who turn their attention on us as we pass, pointing and waving. Everything seems so surreal, like a painting from an elaborate book. The sun seems to gleam in a way I only see when I'm at the Poles, sparkling against anything it hits.

We finally arrive at the Royal Palace, and even when the carriage driver opens the door I'm unable to move, unable to rip my eyes away from the luxurious building in front of me. The first thing I thought was that I wasn't sure if it could actually _fit_ inside Province 9, within the confines of the icy walls. It's an elaborate three or four story structure, painted black with gold trim along the pointed rooftops. There seems to be a large center tower made of triple eaves, with three distinct wings joining it. I can't see how far deep it goes, or how far into the ground, but it has to be the largest structure I have ever seen. It's regal and gothic, pointed and jagged and for a moment I feel a stab of pity at the people who call this place their home.

It is beautiful and grand, of course, but there's nothing comforting or homey about it.

"You won't like what the stylists put you through," Hama whispers in my ear. "But you'd do best not to complain."

"What will they do to me?"

"Hopefully they'll scrub away your attitude and give you a dose or two of respect," says Pakku. "Though I'm not sure there'll be enough time."

I barely manage a scowl before Sokka practically shoves me from the carriage in his own eagerness. That, or he he's trying to save me from a retort I might regret.

* * *

><p>"Ouch!"<p>

I glare, not the first time, at one of my artists who had introduced herself as Nina. She's very pale, possibly a few years older than me and as thin as a rail. Her black hair contrasts against her pale gold eyes, and her face is set in a heart shape. From what I have seen so far, pale skin, dark hair and gold eyes is very common in Province 1.

Nina is pleasant enough, especially being from the Capital, but I have the strangest feeling she enjoys watching her victims in pain.

"We're almost done, Katara, I promise," she says. "This is the last one, okay?"

I nod and get a good grip on the edge of the table I'm seated on. I feel the warm, gooey substance on the back of my leg before it's covered with a soft piece of cloth. I grit my teeth just in time as Nina rips the last piece of cloth off, and my leg hair is completely removed.

Hama had been lying. I don't just not like this…I _hate_ this.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Easy for you to say," I mumble. "All you did was cause me pain and laugh at my expensive."

Nina looks hurt. "That's not true at all. Just wait until June gets hold of you."

June, my stylist. I haven't met her yet, but I've heard the other artists talking about her enough.

The first time I caught a fish with my dad, he said it was my job to prepare it for dinner. First I had to clean it, to wash away the salt and ocean flavor. Then I had to remove all the scales, making sure the fish was smooth. After that I was shown how to filet it, how to slice the meat just the right way. The tiny bones had to be removed, the ones in the flesh, and then I had to chill it for at least a half hour.

This is how I feel now, like a fish being prepared for dinner.

I've been stuck here in the prep room for the past two hours being plucked, scrubbed, scalded, and lathered in a variety of substances that did the oddest things to my skin. When I first arrived, a lady named Cho had scrubbed my entire body with gritty foam that I think might have removed three layers of skin. Then I was lathered in something sticky, thrown into an ice bath, and then wrapped in a strange type of seaweed. My face was covered in a creamy substance and smelled cool and refreshing, but once it was removed it burned like crazy.

After my skin had been addressed, Nina went to work on removing almost all the hair on my body. I was pleased when she said I could keep the hair on my arms and my head. Under my arms had been excruciatingly painful. Sure I shaved at home but I used a certain type of soap and a sharp object, not this sticky stuff that pulls the hair from the root painfully.

Another woman named Pema now begins sawing my fingernails down, shaping them and shortening them to her liking. She then moves to my feet, which I have to admit feels really uncomfortable, as Cho and Nina finish oiling down my body. By this time I'm only wearing a thin wrapping around my chest and lower half, but I hardly care anymore. Embarrassment flew out the window many hours ago. I just want to sit down now.

Pema straightens up, flipping her long brown over her shoulder and blinking her grey eyes. She reminds me a little of a bird with her long nose, those beady eyes and pointed face.

"Well, that looks much better," she says, satisfied with herself.

"Yes," agrees Cho. Her black hair is cropped short, jagged around the edges, and a dark scar is lined from her right eye to her ear, like someone has driven a knife there. "You're almost presentable now!"

"Thank you, I think," I say, biting back the grit in my tongue, because I really am grateful for their time, even if it seems wasted.

When they dart out the door with excited expressions, I find myself leaning against the table in the center of the room. All this prepping has drained me, both physically and emotionally, and all I want to do is curl up in a ball and go to sleep. I suddenly hear Pakku's smug laughter in the back of my head, mocking me and calling me a scared little girl, and I straighten up.

The door opens and a young woman who must be June steps in. I wasn't sure what I expected of my stylist, but it certainly wasn't _this_.

June looks young, possibly four or five years older than me. Her black hair is stick straight, combed off to the side and covering one of her grey eyes. Her lips are painted red, and her eyes are shadowed with a dark shade of purple. Her arms are inked with black marks and what looks like animal bones are pierced through her ears.

"So," she says in a gruff voice, looking me over, "this is what I get. Lovely."

I can't help but think of this woman as someone I might see back home in the Dark Room, drinking and bargaining with the Trackers and Anglers. A personal stylist, someone who is to design my outfits and make me look desirable, would never have crossed my mind.

Where Nina, Cho, and Pema were dressed in bright colors and wore happy, pleasant expressions, June was all shadows and darkness, and a hint of amusement and mockery lingered in her eyes. She begins circling me like a hunter would circle their prey and I automatically fall into a defensive stance. She doesn't miss it.

"I'm not the one you should be worrying about," she says. "I'm here to help you, so relax."

I do as she says and she continues circling me, taking in every inch with her eyes. "Well you are pretty. And you have nice hair. Do you usually wear it down?"

"Sometimes," I say, shrugging. I blow a few pieces out of my face. "But usually I p—"

"Pin part of it back? Yes, I can see why." She touches my arms. "These scars. We'll have to cover them up."

I glance down at her hold. Faint white lines make crisscross patterns along my tan arms like a spider's web. Snow leopards have very sharp claws, and so do polar seal lions. I had forgotten how scarred I really was from all my years of hunting, and quite frankly, I was proud of them. They were marks of courage, my dad had said.

"These are who I am," I say defiantly.

"Yes, and they scream illegal hunting or fighting," she says, giving me a look. "Or did you physically slice and dice yourself up for attention? Is that your strategy to gain sponsors?"

I clamp my jaw shut because I know she has a point. These scars would certainly cause attention to myself here at the Capital, where the weather is so hot you wear little clothing. Back in Province 9 it's always cold and snowy, so my arms were always covered.

"Let's have some lunch and talk. You look half starved." She hands me a robe and I follow her through a door into a sitting room.

I take a seat in one of the white chairs and grab for the bowl of white rice and komodo chicken. There's another tray filled with dumplings and rice cakes, and I pile them into my bowl. It's warm and gooey and fresh, tasting like nothing I have ever experienced before. And spicy. Very, very spicy. Part of me wants to hurl the bowl at the wall, because even a month's supply of hunting probably wouldn't buy this meal back at home.

Rice we could afford in small rations, but komodo chickens didn't live in Province 9. I had only heard of it because Meng says it's her favorite. We couldn't have afforded the other ingredients to make rice cakes, or the items inside the dumplings. Even the bowl looks expensive—white porcelain outlined with gold streaks and spirals.

And yet here at the Capital, these people eat like this regularly. It was sickening—so sickening that I almost regret eating any of it all.

"We need to discuss your costume for the opening ceremony," says June, getting straight to business after I finish my lunch. "It's custom for your costume to reflect the flavor of your province. Ling and I thought you and Sokka would want to dress complementary to one another. You know, being brother and sister and all."

I had temporarily forgotten about the opening ceremony, and the extravagant costumes worn by the tributes. One year the boy and girl tributes from Province 6 were naked aside from being barely covered in vines and leaves. Last year the tributes from Province 9 wore solid white body suits to reflect the snow.

"What do you have in mind?" I ask, dreading the worst. Naked and covered in snow is what I expect.

"Well where you come from, they praise the moon and ocean spirits, right?"

I nod. Okay, maybe no snow.

"I was thinking of making you the ocean, and Ling will make your brother the moon," says June. "You'll be like yin and yang, and all that."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

June grins.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, I'm dressed in one of the strangest pieces of clothing I've ever seen or worn. It feels like another layer of skin, but silky and exceptionally thin. It's a skin-tight dress with long sleeves and swooping neckline, stopping a few inches above the knee. It's shorter than I would have liked. My legs feel very exposed and I'm wearing a pair of strappy high heeled shoes. The fabric is shimmery, a sort of silvery-blue like the way the sun looks when it hits the water. June rubbed some type of liquid over the dress—which I thought would ruin it—but she claimed it would help the 'water run.' Apparently, I'm supposed to bend water on my dress and the substances and liquid on the fabric will keep the water moving constantly on the material like flowing water. I don't know if I believe her.<p>

It's safe to say I'm out of my comfort zone in this outfit. I know fashion in Province 1 is different than back at home, but this is madness.

"How exactly is the water going to _run_?" I ask June for what feels like the thousandth time. If she'd just _answer_ me instead of her vague little comments, I wouldn't have to keep asking.

"Just trust me, Katara," June replies, adjusting my hair. She left it down, adding a bit more curl and adjusted two hair loopies to keep away the strands that normally fall in my face. "It has something to do with the way the water reacts to the chemicals I put on the dress. And the material itself."

"What kind of material is it?"

June raises a brow. "Now I can't give away all my secrets, can I? This is my first year as a stylist and I intend to make a statement with you."

"Is it really?"

June nods and her expression leaves me with the feeling that being a stylist isn't her first choice in career. But her expression also tells me it's none of my business to ask about it.

"Now hold still. I want you to look perfect." She adds a bit more make up to my face. My eyes are accented with a dark powder, and my cheekbones look much more prominent than usual. My entire body looks shiny and smooth, just like my dress. I feel slippery just looking at myself.

June steps back and admires her work. "Katara, the girl who wore the sea."

When I finally get to see Sokka, I literally have to shield myself from his radiance. He's wearing what looks like sleek silver-white armor. It looks like it's been made for a king but what makes me stare is how it sparkles and glows. I can't help but think—

"The moon!" I cry. "You glow just like the moon."

"That's sort of the point," he says. He looks me over with wide eyes. "You look…different."

"A good different?"

Sokka smiles. "Yes. A good different."

June walks over to a woman I assume to be Ling, Sokka's stylist. She's one of the tiniest women I've ever seen. She looks exhausted, and I can't blame her. I'm sure Sokka wasn't very pleasant to deal with. I can't help but wonder what prepping he had to go through because he looks pretty much the same to me. His face appears smoother, the small amount of stubble usually left after shaven completely gone. But other than that, he looks the same.

"I almost forget this." June walks over to me and places Yue's necklace around my neck. "And I'll…I'll make sure your father gets the coat you were wearing."

"Thank you," I say. I can feel Sokka's gaze on me and I turn away hastily.

Joo Dee arrives and spends a good ten minutes appraising us. I'm relieved when the Guards show up as they escort us to the main level of the palace. We're supposed to ride in chariots around the city and arrive at the royal plaza for our ceremony. An area outside the palace is blocked from public view as a line of chariots wait around the pathway. Two dragon moose's are set to pull each carriage, each adorned in golden armor.

I get a small glimpse of other tributes and their costumes but Joo Dee rushes us onto our chariot before I get a chance to examine them further. I glare at her.

"I have to get to the plaza," she says as the opening music begins. "Make Province 9 proud!"

I barely have time to breath when a set of curtains open in front of the first chariot, showing crowd-lined streets. The first chariot goes out, the one I know to be Province 1, and I once again have to shield my eyes as I stare at them. The prince and princess appear to be wearing matching gold armor that glitters brilliantly. It catches the sun and reflects back tenfold. I thought Sokka's looked expensive and bright but not compared to this. They literally look like the sun in human form. The crowd cheers so loudly I can't even hear the music anymore.

Province 2 follows next, both tributes tall and looking radiant in sleek black and gold robes. In no time at all, we are approaching the curtains and I can see just how crowded the streets really are. I've never seen this many people in my life, let alone been cheered on by them. June suddenly appears at my side with a flask of glimmering water. She steps on the back of the chariot and holds it out to me.

"Just bend it to your left sleeve," she says.

I sigh before following her instructions, letting the water run from my fingers onto my dress. I gasp in surprise, and so does Sokka, when the water begins running over my dress. I bend all the water from the flask until there isn't a drop left, and watch in amazement as the water continues moving and shimmering against the fabric. Since my dress is such an iridescent color, I literally look like I'm wearing glittering, running water.

"Don't doubt me again, princess," says June, shooting me a confident smirk and bounding from the chariot. I look up at Sokka to find him staring at me with mixed puzzlement and horror.

"Yeah," he concludes, shaking his head. "Definitely magic water."

When our chariot moves into the street, the crowd immediately begins cheering and shouting "Province Nine!" All eyes and Watchers are on us. Some are waving. Some are trying to touch us but warded off by the Guards. Almost everyone is shielding their eyes and I know it must be because of Sokka. And maybe a little because of me. It's almost dusk, but the sun is still bright enough to catch the glimmers of my dress and his armor.

I turn to Sokka, expecting his bravado to get the best of him, but find myself jaw locked in surprise. He's waving, smiling. Working the crowd and putting on a show. I'm speechless, unable to react to all this attention. Flowers are thrown at us, fireworks are going off, and I can hear my name being chanted now rather than _Province Nine_.

They must have read our names in the pamphlet I see flashing in some of their hands.

Just hearing my name gives me confidence and I smile—even giving a few waves. I think of Province 9, of the people back at home, and of my dad. I want them to be proud. And I want someone to sponsor us. I can tell by the crowd we were highly anticipated, just like the royal siblings. And I can also tell they aren't disappointed.

When we arrive at the royal plaza, the chariots begin lining up in front of a large building with pointed golden rooftops and several long balconies. It's taller than the Royal Palace, probably ten or fifteen floors high. There are stadiums on either side of the runway, filled with cheering and rich dressed people. Our chariot stops just behind Province 8. For a moment I can only see one tribute, but then I remember the Province 8 female is the small blind girl. I can't see her outfit, but the male is dressed in emerald green robes. There's nothing special about his outfit, but it still looks regal and expensive. And the boy is exceptionally large, which could also make for the lack of creativity with his costume. He didn't really need much else to make an impression.

As soon as the music ends, the Fire Lord steps out from a set of doors onto the center balcony. The crowd quiets at once.

"Fellow tributes, I welcome you to Caldera City, the Capital of the Fire Nation." He holds up his hands and the crowd begins cheering. I feel Sokka stiffen at my side and I can't help mirror his tension. "I invite you to feast and enjoy the evening. Tomorrow you may worry about the Games, for now let us celebrate."

The crowd erupts in more applause and I can't help but glower.

I look at Sokka, and his expression says the same thing I'm thinking: _There's no going back now_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading. I realize June might seem like an odd character to make a stylist, but she does have a backstory and I wanted her personality to keep Katara in line. ;) (Not that Pakku doesn't do that already, haha) Please let me know what you think!**


	4. Blue Fire

**A/N: Thank you for your support guys! Enjoy the chapter. **

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><p>"Each of us has a fire in our hearts for something. It's our goal in life to find it and to keep it lit."<br>- _Mary Lou Retton_

**Chapter 4 - Blue Fire**

Inside the Royal Plaza, Sokka and I are issued into a grand ballroom. The floor is stained dark, the walls covered in ivory pain and shimmery windows and the ceiling is painted to look like the night sky. Luminous lanterns hang along the walls and golden clothed tables are fixated around the room with crystal vases sprouting beautiful red and white flowers. As a tribute, I'm seated at a long rectangular table at front of the room. I can see our "Province 9" table with Pakku, Hama, June, Ling and our other artists. It surprises me that I secretly wish I was sitting there instead of here.

Other guests—probably rich nobles of the Fire Provinces—is seated at the round tables around the room. The tables and overall layout of the room seems to shift the focal point to the opposite side of the room, to a small rectangular table seated with only three people: the Capital's royalty.

The man to the Fire Lord's right is older and slightly overweight with a round belly. Graying hair, soft gold eyes, and a kind smile. He had been introduced as General Iroh, the Fire Lord's brother. It hadn't really occurred to me before, but now seeing them side by side, I'm curious why Ozai is Fire Lord and not Iroh, because I sort of thought the eldest brother would surpass the other. That's how royalty works in Province 9, at least. On the other side of the Fire Lord is a handsome younger looking man, possibly eight or ten years older than me. Prince Lu Ten, and he's General Iroh's son. I can sort of see the resemblance: the same kind face, strong jaw, gold eyes.

After introductions, dinner is served in courses and even I almost engage in Sokka's animalistic behavior at the table because it's so delicious: Noodle soup with sizzle crisps. Steamed fish on a stick. Vegetable and meat stuffed dumplings piled over white rice. Spiced roast duck with a rich, creamy sauce. Buttery and soft buns and rolls. And fruit tarts with sweet ice cream.

After dessert we're served several types of tea. I had never been able to actually afford tea back at home, so I made sure to try each and every one. I found I preferred the Ginseng, but it needed something sweet. I glance around and see a small dish with white, crystalized particles. Again I'm able to recognize this ingredient, even though I could never afford it back at home.

I hesitate a second before leaning toward the small blind girl from Province 8, who happens to be sitting on my left.

"Could you pass the sugar, please?" I ask, because I don't feel comfortable reaching over her. "It's just to your left."

Her black hair falls in front of her eyes but it isn't able to completely hide the milky green hue to them. She's wearing an elaborate green and gold tunic, wrapped in some type of sheer material. She looks so young and small, like a little princess from the forest.

The girl's hand shockingly finds the sugar bowl quicker than I would have thought.

"Sure thing."

She hands it to me before going back to her tea. She stirs it with a finger and I can't help but wince.

"Thank you," I say, hoping my slight disgust isn't lacing my tone. I had thought Sokka's manners were bad…

The girl waves me off and Sokka drags me into the conversation he had been having with the two tributes from Province 10, Ming and Nato, that sat on our right. They're both Airbenders and I can't help but feel drawn in while talking to them. There was just something about them—the calmness of their voices, their positive attitudes, their genuine kindness. But as we are talking, I find out Ming is only twelve years old. She's tall for her age, and I had thought of her to be around fifteen. But she's so young. Just a child.

And I'd have to kill her if we came face to face in the arena.

I turn away from Sokka, pretending to be interested in my tea, no longer feeling very social.

* * *

><p>The royal plaza has a tower specifically designed for the tributes and their team of artists. This will be our home until the Games actually begin. Each province has their own floor set with private chambers, prep rooms, bathrooms, sitting rooms, and even a small kitchen. It's pretty easy to remember where we are: Province 9 is on the ninth floor.<p>

Joo Dee is in charge of our day to day schedule. I suppose I'm glad for this, because I wouldn't really know what to do or where to be at certain times. Her overbearing personality is actually coming in useful because she's able to keep us on track. Despite me and Sokka's resistance in the matter, Joo Dee seems excited and eager with us, pleased we made such a good impression during the opening ceremony.

"I was talking to sponsors non-stop the entire night," she gushes. "Of course your story is a unique one. Brother and sister from one of the most secluded provinces. But you know you have the royal siblings in comparison."

I did know this. It was truly unheard of to come across siblings in the arena, let alone two pairs. But what could we do?

"But, and I thought this was clever of me," Joo Dee went on, "I said 'But the royal siblings had no choice. Katara volunteered to be with her brother. Isn't that something? It gives them an edge, don't you think?'"

I suppose it did, if you looked at it that way. The only advantage I saw in this—something Pakku had pointed out to us as well—was that we posed as a team, and this could reassure sponsors to choose us. I hadn't had a chance to really watch the royal siblings but from what I had gathered, they weren't close like Sokka and I.

There's a twisted and sick part of me that hopes they take out each other, that way I don't have to deal with either one of them. Pakku has been very clear on his personal instructions:

"_I don't want you or Sokka near either one of them_," he had said. "_Not before the Games and certainly not in the Games. They are your biggest threats."_

"_So we shouldn't make them allies?" Sokka had asked. Typically allies were made once the Games began. It was most likely the Fire Provinces would ally together—like they did every year—but Sokka had thought maybe the siblings would want to ally with us. I had disagreed with his logic._

"_Certainly not," _replied Pakku_. "They will turn on you the moment the opportunity arises. They're the Fire Lord's flesh and blood, and will have had the best training in the world. You stand no chance."_

"_That's reassuring," _I had said dryly_. "Thanks. So you're saying it's impossible to beat them."_

"_Impossible for you, yes. But not for them."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_It means they're already enemies, even if they ally themselves in the beginning," _Pakku told us._ "They have a reason even more than you to win. They have the throne on the line. They'll turn on each other eventually, and only then will you see one of them fall. Be smart, and be patient."_

I didn't like this advice. I wasn't usually the type of person that waited, that allowed others to do the fighting while I bided my time. Sokka is the strategic planner—I'm usually the one jumping right into the fight before I have a plan. This waiting thing sounded painful. But then again, it probably isn't as painful as trying to take on either one of the royal siblings by myself.

As I sit at breakfast with my brother and our mentors, I can only envy Sokka's appetite. I feel slightly uneasy because today is the first day I'll actually see the other tributes face to face. We have two weeks until the Games—two weeks to prepare and train. The first two days we have to train with all twenty four tributes. Then we'll have a private session with the Elites—the judges in charge of the Games—and they'll give us a score out of 12. I've never seen anyone get a perfect score, and hardly anyone ever gets a 10 or above. I'll be pleased if I manage to scrape a six. It's important to do well in the private session, because sponsors take the scores into consideration when selecting tributes.

Supposedly there will be a Waterbender in the Training Room and this gives me a little hope because that means I can learn more about Waterbending. But Hama and Pakku warn me not to reveal how little I know.

"You don't want everyone to think you're completely worthless," says Pakku. Somehow I feel like I'm being insulted, albeit indirectly. "But you don't want anyone to see you as a possible threat either, however unlikely. Coast in the middle."

"Thought you weren't mentoring me," I say to him dryly. I push my bowl of oatmeal aside, no longer hungry.

"I'm not," says Pakku. "Just giving you a little advice. I thought that's what you wanted?"

"I want to know how to fight with Waterbending," I say angrily. "Not just with weapons."

"Hama is a Waterbender too," he points out.

This surprises me and I snap my attention to her. "I didn't know that."

"Not many do," she says, a small smile on her lips. There's something else there, something dark that scares me a little. "Before you go into the arena, I'll show you what I know."

"Thank you," is my simple reply. I'm pleased _someone_ around here is willing to help me. Maybe she isn't a master, but I'd rather learn something than nothing at all.

"We need to discuss your strengths and weaknesses," says Hama. She gives one look at Pakku and than at Sokka. "The both of you."

"Well," begins Sokka, never missing a moment to talk about himself, "my dad taught me how to use a sword and spear long ago. Same with Katara."

"And you can both hunt, right?" asks Pakku. "You know how to kill animals and prepare them for food?"

We both nod and Sokka adds,

"And we know how to set up traps and snares."

"That gives you an advantage over about half the tributes," says Hama. Her lip curls in disgust and she adds, "Those spoiled little brats know nothing of survival."

Pakku nods in agreement. "The Fire Provinces are mostly wealthy, rich kids who never had to hunt for food a day in their lives," he says. "If they aren't Firebenders, there's a good chance they'll starve to death if they don't ally with anyone."

"I thought they train the kids in those provinces," says Sokka, buttering a piece of bread.

"They do," says Hama. "They train them to _fight_. But that doesn't mean they know how to hunt, make shelter, prepare food. There's more to these Games than fighting."

"So we just have to outlast everyone else," I say in disgust. "Not bother fighting at all."

"If that's what gets you out alive, I don't see the problem," says Pakku coldly. "Do you know why there aren't many Province 9 victors, Katara?"

"Because they have a poor choice of mentors?" I make sure to aim my slam on Pakku and not Hama.

"Because even though benders have the best chances of winning, water is the hardest to come by in the Games," says Pakku, not seeming very offended by my comment. Which is a shame because I thought it was a pretty good one. "Every arena is surrounded by earth and air. And Firebenders get their source from the sun and the burning inside them. But as a Waterbender, we _need_ water, not just in our bodies but to bend. Typically there's a main water source in the arena, and sometimes you'll get lucky and find another. The other tributes know this, and they'll trap you. They'll wait for you to return to the water source, and then they'll kill you. That or they won't let you near it."

I know he's telling the truth because I've seen it myself. The biggest problem with Waterbenders winning is because like Pakku said, there isn't a large supply of water. Even if a tribute can carry it around in a canteen or something, it's still able to spill, evaporate from a skilled Firebender, or the need for thirst could take over.

Hama looks like she wants to add something but she instead closes her mouth.

"When you get to the Training Room, try to learn something you don't already know," Pakku goes on. "Shoot a bow and arrow. Tie a few knots. Practice climbing the trees. Don't bother with the swords and spears, since you already know how to use them. You can be friendly to the other tributes if you want but do not make any friends."

"You don't think we should try to get allies?" asks Sokka, frowning.

"I didn't say anything about allies. I said don't make any _friends_," says Pakku. "There's a difference, and you'll be wise to remember it."

* * *

><p>One of the most interesting things I had seen so far was the elevators. These were how we got around from floor to floor. Back in Province 9, when you wanted to get to a higher floor of a large building like the Palace, you had to walk there. Here at the royal plaza, you went to the elevators. They were controlled by Earthbenders who moved the elevator up or down with bending, depending on which floor you wanted to go to. What amazed me even more was the elevators were made of metal, and I had no idea Earthbenders could actually <em>bend<em> metal.

"_The Capital is home to many Master's, not just Firebender's_," Hama had said. "_Metalbending is not something every Earthbender can do. It is very advanced, and truly takes a Master to do so_."

"_But how_?" I had asked. "_It's metal. Not earth._"

"_Metal is just a piece of earth, Katara. It's simply refined and purified, but the earth particles still linger inside. Water is the same way."_

"_Really? Will you show me?"_

"_In time, my child. In time."_

I wondered if this time would come soon, but I knew it wasn't now. Because right now I had just stepped off the elevator with Sokka on the lowest level of the plaza, ready for our first training practice. We head to the double doors at the end of the hall where I'll finally get my first real glimpse of the tributes.

We step into the Training Room and I glance around swiftly. It's a huge space with stations set up around the room. I can see swords and shields at one, fishing supplies at another, and even large trees sitting on a pile of grass. I guess I'd have to climb them like Pakku suggested after all.

A neatly dressed woman hands me a pin to put on my shirt. It's solid gold, in the shape of the number _9_. I wonder how much it cost, and how much it would sell for back at home. The woman then bustles Sokka and I toward the group in the middle of the room, and I only then notice the other tributes are waiting for us.

Huh. I thought we were early.

Thanks a lot, Joo Dee.

"Now that we're all here," a tall, brooding man says in irritation, "we can get started."

The man is named Hu Fong, and he goes over the schedule for the next few days. He's apparently in charge of our training, and I get the impression he takes his job a little too seriously. I'm pleased when he points out the Master benders and their stations, and my eyes automatically zone in on the Waterbender. The man looks about the same age as my dad, the same blue eyes and tan face. But that's about all that reminds me of him. This man is tall and lean, with a beaded goatee. His face is scarred with feint white lines, like the ones that cover my arms.

Hu Fong begins reading out the stations and I take the moment to examine the other tributes. As expected, the Fire Province tributes are grouped together. I recognize the prince and princess, and the tall brooding girl and large boy from Province 2. A boy from Province 3 keeps whispering to the girl tribute from Province 5. I can't help but think this girl looks the most out of place out of everyone here. Almost everyone is wearing black training gear, yet this girl is dressed in fluorescent pink. Her hair tied back in a neat braid and her demeanor is so perky it's almost painful to watch.

I can't help but write her off as an easy target. Maybe her stylist wanted her to stand out—and she certainly is pretty—but she looks about as harmful as Princess Yue.

There's a sneeze and then a clashing sound that interrupts Hu Fong mid sentence. Everyone looks toward the noise in surprise. The boy from Province 11—the small, bald boy with wide eyes—blushes and rubs his head awkwardly.

"Sorry about that," he says, glancing toward the fallen maces at the nearest station. "I do that sometimes."

It takes me a minute to string it together, and then—oh. An Airbender. And while he sneezed, he accidently knocked over the maces. I don't know why but this makes me smile slightly.

Hu Fong finishes his instructions as though not interrupted and dismisses us. The Fire Provinces move first. Some go to the Firebender Masters, others to the deadly weapons stations—swords, throwing knives, maces—those types of things. My eyes travel toward the blind girl and I watch with a kind of mixed horror and sadness as she's led around the stations by a Guard.

"Sokka, where do you want to st—" I break off in mid sentence, glancing around.

Sokka has already found a station, and is busy chatting with the girl tribute from Province 12. She's pretty, probably around my age. Her light brown hair sits just above her shoulders and her grey eyes are lit with energy and fierceness. There's certain stealth to her, something sly and sneaky, something I don't like. But apparently Sokka does, because he's putting on the charm like his life depends on it.

I scowl and make my way toward the Waterbender Master. It doesn't seem fair there's around eight Firebending Masters and only one Waterbender Master, but I guess that's because only 1 out of 12 provinces needs a Waterbender.

Whatever.

I'm almost to him when I hear a frustrated grunt. The boy from Province 11, the Airbender, is sitting on the ground and attempting to set a trap. Judging by his expression, he's very annoyed and not bothering to hide the fact that he doesn't know what he's doing. I can't help but think there's something so innocent and pitiful about him, that I find myself walking to his station.

"No," I say to him, bending down. "You have to tie it like this."

I fix the knot, readjusting the rope so it looks exactly like the one the Guard in charge of this station had performed. The boy watches in silence, and when I finish I smile at him. He smiles back.

"Thanks," he says happily. "I don't eat meat but I've always wanted to learn how to do that."

"You don't eat meat at all?" I ask, surprised.

"Nope." He pushes himself to his feet using Airbending. "We're strict vegetarians at the temple—fruits, vegetables, dairy and grains only. But Monk Yuen always makes the best egg custard."

I can't help but stare at him, slightly stunned. All the other tributes seem so tense, like they're about to go into battle at any moment, yet this boy seems completely normal. Chatting about vegetarianism like it's the most important and normal topic at hand.

"Oh, I'm Aang, by the way," he adds, giving a slight bow.

"Katara," I say, smiling a little.

"Ka-tar-uh," Aang says slowly, sounding it out. "I like it. Pretty name."

"Thanks." He smiles and I can't help but smile back. I couldn't place it before but I think he reminds me of a boy back at home, one that always helps Kami with her healing. The smile on my face vanishes as I remember Pakku's words.

"_Do not make any friends_."

"Well I'm going to find my brother," I say suddenly. "Nice meeting you."

"You too," says Aang, oblivious to my sudden change of heart.

I practically sprint away from him, not bothering to look where I'm going. Just as I turn, it feels like I hit a wall and I stumble back, knocking into something else that feels like a wall. I fall to the ground and my vision blurs for a few seconds. I can hear deep voices arguing somewhere in the distance before someone is pulling me back to my feet.

"You alright?"

I blink a few times and the handsome boy from Province 6 comes to view. He's tall, much taller than I thought originally, and his brown eyes match his messy hair and stare at me with amusement. A blush warms my cheeks and I look away.

"Yeah, fine. Thanks."

"You might want to pay better attention next time," he says, that lazy amusement dripping in his voice. "You ran right into '_his royal highness_.'"

"Did I?" I glance around and find Prince Zuko, but he's on the other side of the room, talking to one of the Firebending Master's. As though feeling my gaze, he turns his head and our eyes lock. It's only a second before he rips away.

"Yeah I handled it though," says the boy from Province 6, waving a hand and snapping me from my daze. His eyes, which had looked pleasant to me, now darken with something deep. I wouldn't have believed someone's eyes could switch that quickly had I not been studying them so closely. "Lucky we're not in the arena. I'm going to be the one to kill him and his sister."

I don't know why he's telling me this—or how he thinks he can actually kill them—but then something he said angered me.

"I can handle myself," I say coldly. "I don't need your help."

"Hey—" the boy holds up his hands. "I'm sure you're tough, Water Girl. I didn't mean to make you angry."

"Maybe you should," I say, shrugging. "That'll make it so much more interesting when I kill you."

I walk away, letting him adjust to _that_. I don't know why I said it, because honestly I don't want to kill him. But he had made me angry, even if he didn't mean to. If I was being honest I made myself angry—by running into two large boys and falling to the ground pathetically, because I wasn't paying attention. I'm sure some of the other tributes saw it, but I refuse to check for myself. So I keep my eyes on the ground and make my way over to Sokka, who thankfully is alone at the navigation station.

"Why did you leave me?" I hiss at him.

"I wanted to check out the knives," says Sokka, shrugging. He's fiddling with some gadget that's supposed to show you direction.

"No, you wanted to check out that girl," I correct.

"Her name's Suki," says Sokka. "She says she's going to kill me on the opening day but I don't believe her."

"Sokka!" I smack him on the arm so he looks up at me. "This is serious!" I bring my voice low. "These tributes are here to kill us. You do realize that, right?"

"But she's a _girl_, Katara. And she isn't a bender." He laughs. "I mean come on, what chance does she stand?"

I find his response doesn't deserve one of my own so I stalk away, ignoring his calls after me. After about an hour, the Elites make their appearance. About twenty or thirty men and woman, all four types of benders alike, dressed in long burgundy robes trimmed in gold. They don't really speak to us, but rather observe our training and take notes on their scrolls. The only tribute they show real interest in is Princess Azula, and honestly, I don't blame them, because I did too.

I hadn't been paying too much attention to her until I overheard the commotion at the Firebending station. Azula had been correcting a _Master_, telling him he instructing a technique incorrectly. When he had questioned her, she took matters into her own hands and performed the technique herself.

Not only was it in fact, more impressive and probably more accurate than the Master's had been, what made me and the others gawk was that Azula's fire was _blue_.

Blue fire.

All my life the color blue had been a comfort. I had never been scared of that color but I am now. Pakku is right. I will stay away from the princess. And if I'm going to die in the Games, I hope and pray it won't be at her hand.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, Lu Ten is alive. I see no point in killing him since Ba Sing Se fell with Sozin's Comet. :P Also if Azula and Zuko die in the Games, Lu Ten will be the heir to the throne. (Another reason why the Province 1 Council didn't go into an uproar..they still have an heir, technically)**

**Please let me know what you think! I'm going to start keeping a list of the tributes as Katara learns their names.**

**Tributes:**

**Province 1 – Zuko and Azula**

**Province 2 – **

**Province 3 – **

**Province 4 –**

**Province 5 – **

**Province 6 – **

**Province 7 – **

**Province 8 –**

**Province 9 – Sokka and Katara**

**Province 10 – Ming and Nato**

**Province 11 – Aang **

**Province 12 – Suki**


	5. Ground Zero

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, and especially those who have suggested tributes! I actually already have them all planned out, but I do appreciate your input-many of you guessed some of them! This chapter you finally get to see a few more. Enjoy!**

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><p>"Have a heart that never hardens and a temper that never tires." - <em>Charles Dickens<em>

**Chapter 5 - Ground Zero**

The next three days go by the same. Sokka and I move from station to station, learning new techniques that might come in useful. The Waterbending Master is named Kiro, and he shows me a few offensive attack moves like a water whip and water jets. He also demonstrates how to make a shield of water and ice, which I think will come in quite useful against the other benders if I'm on the defensive—which honestly, will be most of the time.

During these training sessions I've also learned the name of the handsome boy from Province 6, and his female counterpart: Jet and Song.

Song doesn't look like much of a threat to me. She appears well fed, but there is nothing muscular or athletic to her body. She spends most of her time at the medical station, learning about different plants and how they're used for healing. I mean yeah, okay, that's pretty useful but still. Jet on the other hand proves very skilled with the swords, and I mentally noted him as a possible threat, even though he shows a particular interest in me. I think it's because I threatened to kill him the first time we met—like it's now his personal vendetta to get me to change my mind about him.

The princess appears to have made allies—no surprise there—with the younger tributes from Province 3 and the boy and girl from Province 2. The ones from Three don't look very intimidating but they seem to worship the princess, which means they'll probably lay down their life if she asks. Human sacrifice is always something to have on your side, I suppose. They might be young, but they're still from one of the Fire Provinces. I can't rule them out just yet.

I figure out the girl from Two is named Mai. She's a year older than me, and seems slightly bored whenever she moves around to the stations, not bothering to examine them too thoroughly. I can't tell what her strengths are, if she has any, but there is something cold in her expression that makes me wary. Her counterpart is Chan, and he's the biggest tribute here. He's a Firebender, and completely full of himself. At first I thought he was scary because of his size, but the large boy from Province 8 is proving to be even scarier.

He is almost as big as Chan, but what frightens me most is that he never speaks. Not ever. Not even when addressed by the Elites or Guards. I suspected one would eventually punish him for his insubordination, whip him with fire or something, but no one has so far. Sokka thinks the Elites have written off this behavior as 'strategy' but I don't think that's the case. Apparently his name is Matsu.

Oddly enough, there is another tribute that never speaks: the boy from Province 4. Where I thought Matsu didn't speak out of rebelliousness, I get a whole different impression from the boy from Four. He spends a lot of his time watching and letting others talk, always with a calculating expression. The girl tribute from Four doesn't try to get him to talk either. I think she's an Earthbender because I see her talking to the Master's quite a bit.

A lot of people seem adamant about giving away their bending. I guess they think the suspense will give them an edge, but I don't bother. There are only two possible Waterbenders so what difference does it really make? And besides, unlike Sokka's idiotic opinions, you have to watch out for the non-benders as well.

At the end of the day yesterday, when the silent boy from Four didn't think anyone was watching, I saw him hit a target perfectly with a bow and arrow from about forty or fifty feet. It was such a good shot I think I stared at him like a gaping fish. I've never seen anyone shoot like that. Since I don't know his name—like he'd tell me anyway—I decide to call him Longshot.

Hope he doesn't mind.

Although we get to eat dinner back on our floors, lunch is served on the lower level and all twenty-four tributes eat together. The Fire Province tributes swarm together like a flock of koala sheep. That makes eight of them—tributes from 1, 2, 3, and 5. Princess Azula is clearly the leader of the group, the most animated, and not bothering to hide her confidence. I'm sure she plans on disposing her little followers as soon as the moment comes, but they don't seem bothered by it. Except…for some reason Prince Zuko doesn't seem as 'in' with the group as Azula is. Maybe it's his personality, maybe because he seems to dislike his sister, but he definitely keeps his distance. Yes, he sits with them alright, but he doesn't train in the Training Room in front of everyone else.

While Azula focuses on her precise and intimidating bending in front of everyone, Zuko spends more time watching everyone else and examining the various stations. I haven't seen him bend yet, but that doesn't mean that he isn't any good. I'm sure he is. How could he not be, being the Fire Lord's son?

But there's something off about him, and I'm not sure what it is, or why I'm trying to figure it out.

_Because he's your competition, that's why_, my mind tells me. That's probably true. I've been examining all the tributes as much as I can—trying to find their strengths and weaknesses, trying to see how I might have an edge over them. Zuko hasn't given anything away, and that bothers me.

"Katara!"

Something hits my face and it takes me a second to realize Sokka has flicked something warm and gooey at me. Wow, he must really want my attention if he tosses food away like that.

"What?" I wipe away the custard from my cheek hastily.

"I've been calling your name like five times," he says, frowning. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Obviously not," I reply, biting in to crunchy flat bread covered in meats and cheeses. I'm pretty sure I've gained at least five pounds since my arrival. I guess that's a good thing, because Hama told me I need to bulk up a little.

"I've been thinking, and I know hardly anyone ever allies with Province 9 but we might have a shot."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's every tribute for themselves out there," he says. "But if we give the impression we're in this together, other tributes might think they'll stand a better chance with us."

"Yeah, maybe." I had thought of this, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to trust, even partially, any of these tributes. And I wasn't sure Pakku would go for this angle.

"We need to figure out who will most likely ally with us." He leans closer to me. "Who are you thinking?"

I glance around the hall. Aside from the Fire Provinces, everyone else is sitting alone and looking a little lost. Sokka and I are the only province that sit together aside from Province 10—the Airbenders I had met during the opening ceremony dinner. I see Aang, the bald boy with the arrows, sitting in the far corner of the room. He's playing with the air above his tea.

"Maybe the boy from Eleven?" I suggest. Sokka turns, finds Aang, and looks back at me with amusement and surprise.

"_Him_? Are you kidding, Katara? He's a kid. And I've watched him. He's not likely to put up much of a fight."

"He's an _Airbender_, which means he can be in the _air_," I point out. "Don't you think it'll be useful to have a set of eyes in the sky?"

Sokka mulls this over, stroking his chin. "Okay, I'll think about it. Who else? What about Suki?"

"No," I say immediately. Sokka has a weakness for pretty girls, and this Suki is definitely playing her game hard. "I think we need to be careful of her."

"What about the Earthbender from Seven?" Sokka doesn't seem to acknowledge my opinion of Suki. "He didn't want anyone to know he can Earthbend but I caught him the first night. He's good."

I'm pretty sure his name's Haru. I overheard the girl from Three whispering about him because she thought he was cute. I suppose she's right—he is cute. He's got long dark hair, tan skin, and brilliant green eyes set in an angular face. I don't think any of the girls want to kill him.

Well, except Azula. I haven't seen any weakness out of her yet, and I doubt handsome boys are making the list.

"I don't know," I say, sighing. "I sort of…well, I think we should ally with the blind girl."

Sokka chokes on his tea. "WHAT? That's even worse than suggesting the little bald kid."

I glance over to where the blind girl is sitting. To my surprise, she's sitting with Matsu. They aren't speaking, but it pleases me she doesn't have to sit alone. I watch her eat, watch the way she ignores utensils completely, but how accurately she knows where everything is. I don't think anyone but me pays this much attention to her.

"I think…I just have a feeling about her," I say, turning back to face my brother. "I don't know what it is, but I think we need her."

I decide to run this idea by Pakku at dinner later that night, just on the chance he may be able to convince my brother. But like Sokka, he doesn't seem to agree with me.

"You are thinking out of pity, not strategy," Pakku scolds. "Bringing a small blind girl along will only slow you down."

"But maybe she'll be useful!"

Pakku laughs coldly. "Hah! Useful to do what? _Feel_ her way around the arena?"

I stand up and slam my hand on the table so hard that I'm surprised nothing breaks. Joo Dee flinches back, her tea spilling across her lap.

"Does no one else care that this little girl is going to be _alone_ AND _blind_ out there?" I shout. "Am I the only one who has a heart enough to see that?"

"She's _blind_, Katara," says Pakku placidly. "I know it's a tragedy she's been cast into this game, but it's not worth getting killed over. That's one less person you have to worry about."

I turn my swooping anger on Hama and Sokka, looking for some sort of response. They both give me sympathetic looks, ones that say '_I'm sorry but he has a point_.' Furious and blinded by rage, I storm out of the dining room, making sure to slam the door extra hard on my way out.

On the second day of training, Sokka doesn't mention allies. I think he feels bad about leaving me hanging at dinner the night before. I'm not completely cold to him, but I'm not really friendly either. When Hu Fong dismisses us for stations, I wander away without asking him where he wants to go. Despite my argument with Pakku, I head straight to plants station: right where the blind girl is seated.

Her head tilts in my direction as I approach, and again I find myself slightly surprised by her awareness.

"What do you want, Sugar Queen?"

_Sugar Queen_? Was she talking to me? A quick glance around tells me she must be, because no one else is here. But that name makes absolutely no sense.

"Actually, my name's Katara," I say, taking a seat.

"Whatever." The girl waves a dirty hand. Judging by the disgruntled plant before her, I'd say she was digging around in the dirt. "You still haven't told me what you want."

I bite my lip. "I was wondering…how…how do you know where things are, when you can't see?"

It was blunt, I knew that. But I had a feeling bluntness was the best way to go. She didn't strike me as the type of person that liked their time being wasted.

I could see her pale eyes under those long bangs shoot up. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You just seem…really aware." I'm not even sure I'm making sense or what my point is.

"Look—" the girl stands up suddenly. I was surprised someone so small could appear so large. "I don't need you making fun of me."

"I'm no—"

"I'm just a blind little girl whose been sucked into this ridiculous game. I don't have time for you." She moves her head around wildly. "Nato? Nato, take me away from this station."

The Guard apparently named Nato seems to come from nowhere and guides the girl away before I can say anything. But I do catch him murmuring her name.

Toph.

The third day of training means private lessons with the Elites. This is when we're supposed to show our biggest strengths. I know I'm strongest with a sword and spear, and I've learned a fair few Waterbending techniques that might impress the Elites. Sokka's true strength is mapping and navigation, but there's really no way he can demonstrate that without being cast out into the wild. But he's pretty good with a sword too, so he plans a similar strategy as me.

During lunch the Guards announce that they'll begin calling each of the tributes, one at a time, in ten minutes. I pile my tray with my extra scraps and head toward the end of the hall to dump it. I tried to clear my plate, because honestly people would die for the kind of food I was getting back at home, but I was so stuffed I felt like I'd explode.

I dumped the contents of my tray into a large bin and turn—right into something hard.

I managed to keep hold of the tray and myself without falling. Only a slight stumble. My eyes shoot up, and connect with the last person I want to run in to.

Prince Zuko.

Okay, that's not entirely true. The princess is probably the last person I want to run in to.

But honestly, I was prepared for some sort of reprimand on Zuko's part. A speech on how much better he is than me, being royalty and all, and that I need to watch where I'm going. What I did not expect is for him to ignore me completely, side step me like I'm not here, and pretend like he hadn't just walked in to me. Or maybe I walked into him. Doesn't matter.

For some reason this angers me. It's like he doesn't even acknowledge me as a person. Something about him tells me he could have avoided colliding in to me if he wanted to—that he's agile and quick enough. But he didn't, which means he doesn't mind walking _through_ me. Like I don't matter. Like I'm nothing.

But why should he think any differently?

Because I'm a damn threat in these Games. That's why.

"You know I thought princes had manners," I say to his back, just as he's walking away. "I don't think it would kill you to apologize."

He pauses and turns his head slightly over his shoulder, not really looking at me.

"Why would I apologize when I'm not sorry?" His voice is slightly raspy, but strong and clear.

My hands fly to my hips. "Because _you_ ran into _me_." I decide to ignore the fact that I had ran into him the other day.

"It's no matter," he says. "You'll be dead within the first three days of the Games."

"Says who, you?" I bark out an uncharacteristic, mirthless laugh. "A prince of no apparent honor or respect?"

This time he turns to face me, acknowledging my presence for the first time. _Now I have his attention_, I think. _Great_. He looks at me, really looks me. His gold eyes are smoldering, just like his sister's. They're a deep gold, holding a kind of fierceness I have never seen in someone his age. His dark hair messily skews his scar, but the intensity of his stare is enough to avert my gaze.

I decide I don't want to hear his response and scurry back to Sokka at our table. He gives me a look, one that clearly says he saw the interaction with the prince and wants me to explain myself. Thankfully I don't have to, because a Guard appears in the doorway and calls the male tribute from Province 1, Zuko in fact, to the Training Room, and we begin our private practices. Sokka and I go over last minute details, making sure the other is prepared fully for our lesson—neither one of us know what to expect. None of the tributes come back after they're called, and for some reason this makes me feel even more nervous.

Sokka is called before I know it, and I give him a quick supportive hug before he leaves. I go over everything in my head that I'm supposed to show the Elites—Waterbending, swordsmanship, knife throwing, maybe even climb a few trees because I'm pretty agile. When my name's called twenty minutes later, I hear someone shout, "Good luck!" just as the Guard issues me inside and the door closes behind me.

I think it was Aang.

Inside the Training Room, the Elites are sitting behind a long rectangular table. They look tired and slightly bored. I guess I can't blame them—they've sat through seventeen demonstrations so far. Servants flutter in and out in ivory robes, filling their glasses with water and setting the table with food. For some reason this really annoys me, but I decide to ignore it and make my way toward the swords.

I have to withhold my excitement because I had wanted to swing one of these around for days. There's also a spear, which gives me a little more satisfaction because I can throw it pretty far. It's sleek and black, smooth in my grip. I decide to use the sword first though, just for a bit of warm up, and set the spear back down.

I select a moderately sized sword, glittering silver with a gold hilt. I grab a few dummies and scatter them around. Part of me feels stupid, because a real enemy actually fights back, but what can you do.

Glancing at the dummies, I fall into a fighting stance. In a quick motion, I jump in the air, swinging my sword until it connects with the first dummy. Salt spills from its chest and I lunge toward another, slicing its head clear off. I do this to four dummies, making sure my footwork and arm rotation is just how my dad taught me. When I finish I'm out of breath and allow myself a small glance at the Elites. Their expressions look the same—bored, tired. Hungry.

I want to snap at them that I'd be more impressive if one of _them_ actually attacked me, but I know to hold my tongue. I take another dummy and place him on the far side of the room. Going back to the weapons station, I grip the spear in my hand. I glance at the dummy, take two steps forward, and fling the spear across the room.

It's a clean kill—straight to the heart. Salt spills over the floor once more and the dummy actually falls to the ground.

The Elites seem a bit more interested now, a few sending positive nods in my direction and others marking down notes on scrolls of parchment.

Good. I have their attention now.

I move toward the large barrel of water in the corner of the room—I guess the Elites had thought of me after all—and start performing various skills I had acquired. I start with a basic water manipulation, letting the water travel around the room as I guide it wherever I want. Then I flick my wrist, letting the water split into two water whips. Another flick and the water lashes out and slices a dummy across the chest. It's just as effective as the sword and spear.

Before I know it, I'm overwhelmed with the freedom of being able to bend. I try different moves, letting the water guide my actions. After about ten minutes, I hear a yawn that distracts me. My head turns and I see the Elites. They look bored again, and I must have zoned out while bending.

But behind their boredom is relief and excitement. Not at me, but because the servants are filling their goblets with a dark substance—wine. They begin talking amongst themselves, ignoring me completely, and fixate their stares on the two large roast ducks that had just come in.

Suddenly I'm furious. The score I receive from this demonstration may dictate any sponsors I may or may not get. This is important, and they're treating it like a joke, more interested in _dead ducks_ than me. My heart pounds loudly in my chest and I can feel my face reddening in anger. My fists tighten, the water freezing around them, and some out of state rage begins taking over. I'm seeing red now and visibly shaking.

"I may not be _royalty_," I shout in a steely voice, not sure if I'm really yelling at them or subconsciously at Zuko from our previous encounter, "but I still deserve your RESPECT!"

When I shout the last word, there's an echoing explosion and a cry of alarm from the Elites. Wine and water explode from their goblets, drenching the Elites, the walls, the table-everything. The food is completely ruined and so are their robes. Everyone at the table stares at me, shock and disbelief plastered on their faces.

I turn and walk toward the exit, not bothering to announce my leave or wait to be dismissed.

By the time I reach the elevator, tears are leaking down my face. I shout at the Earthbender in charge of the elevator to take me to the ninth floor, and he does without question. I think I frightened him. But who really cares? I've ruined my chances at a decent score and at getting any sponsors.

I storm past Sokka and Hama when I reach our quarters and lock myself in my room before they can ask me how it went. For a moment I simply stand there, letting what just happened really sink in. When my legs can't support the burden of my current situation no longer, I slide down the door onto the ground. I pull my knees up, burying my head in my arms and begin to sob.

Why couldn't I of just controlled my temper? Now what would the Elites do? Lock me in a cell? Execute me? I shudder and a chill runs down my spine. The ultimate punishment in the Fire Nation is an execution. After a proper trial, the excused is strapped to a pole in front of a line of Firebenders and burned to death. I had only seen this once before, back at home, and it wasn't something I ever wanted to see again. And I especially didn't want it to happen to _me_.

Then again, wouldn't an execution be better than participating in the Games? Horrible, brutal deaths happen in the arena. Tributes are speared through the chest, drowned in the lakes, buried alive, stabbed in the heart. Maybe being at the brunt of a firing line wouldn't be as painful in comparison as to what Azula might have in store for her competitors. The only thing I can hope though is that they don't punish Sokka. I can bear whatever punishment is in store for me, but can't handle my brother being brought into this.

After I shout my voice raw at anyone who knocks at my door to leave me alone, I finally manage to crawl into my bed. The scores will be announced in a few hours, so I tell myself it's okay to cry. Except now the tears have stopped. I can still taste the bitter salt in my mouth. My fists clench on the soft blanket and I shut my eyes tightly.

I'm just so angry with myself—angry for losing my temper. Angry for breaking down right now, angry I couldn't protect Sokka, angry I'm stuck in these Games. And mostly, I'm angry because I can't do anything about any of it.

The only light I can see in the situation is that typically the highest ranking tributes go down early in the Games. Not because they're not talented, but because other tributes band together to take them out. I don't think that will be the case this year, though, but I try to keep positivewhen I finally allow myself to join the rest of my team a few hours later.

I'm sure my name will be remembered now: Katara, the girl who wore the ocean, receives the lowest score in the Black Game's history!

Even though the scores are from 1-12, I'm pretty sure there will officially be a score of zero.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for reading! I just want to point out-in case I wasn't clear-this story WILL be violent. And people will die. I'm afraid that's the nature of this story. So I'm just warning you all now before we get to the Games, lol. I'm hoping this story brings out many different emotions. =)

**Tributes Update (age):**

**Province 1 – Zuko (18) and Azula (16)**

**Province 2 – Chan (17) and Mai (17)**

**Province 3 – **

**Province 4 – Longshot (16)**

**Province 5 – **

**Province 6 – Jet (17) and Song (16)**

**Province 7 – Haru (17)**

**Province 8 – Matsu (18) and Toph (14)**

**Province 9 – Sokka (17) and Katara (16)**

**Province 10 – Nato (15) and Ming (12)**

**Province 11 – Aang (14)**

**Province 12 – Suki (16)**


	6. Dying as Me

**A/N: This chapter was actually a bit longer, but I had to carry it over to the next one. :P Anyway, I hope you like it! **

* * *

><p>"Silent darkness creeps into your soul<br>and removes the light of self-control  
>the cave that holds you captive has no doors<br>burnin' with determination  
>to even up the score." - <em>Hearts on Fire<em>, John Cafferty

**Chapter 6 - Dying as Me**

When I sit down for dinner, everyone gives me that look. The look that clearly says, _"We've just been talking about you because we think you're crazy, but we aren't going to say anything. So we're going to stare at you instead." _I couldn't really decide what's worse: This apprehensive staring like I'm a wild animal about to attack or the barking of questions and banging on my door I had received earlier.

Sokka seems torn between the roast boar and his concern for me. He looks like he wants to say something, but his hand keeps twitching toward the boar. I decide this is too much and anyway, I can't hide what happened forever. Might as well prepare them for my lousy score.

"I sort of…attacked the Elites," I say.

This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Joo Dee, Sokka, and Pakku explode in protests while June and Ling pull their heads close and erupt in chatter. Only Hama seems semi calm, fixating me with one of her heavy gazes. I hold up my hands, gesturing them to be quiet and add, "That came out wrong. What I mean is that I got really angry, and the water and wine on their table exploded."

It takes about a minute for everyone to absorb this.

"So you didn't attack them on _purpose_, then?" asks Pakku.

"Of course not!" I defend. "I've never lost control like that…or knew I could do what I did when provoked."

"Provoked." Pakku doesn't look convinced and his lethargic tone doesn't suggest it either.

"Yes," I say angrily. "I started with swords and spears before moving to the Waterbending, and they were just so absorbed in their wine and food that I lost my temper."

"And what did they say about that?" June asks. I swear there's amusement in her voice.

"Nothing. Well," I correct myself, "I walked out before they could say anything."

Joo Dee gasps and Pakku is pinching the bridge of his nose when he speaks,

"Tell us exactly what happened."

This is the part I'm dreading most. It isn't what I did, which could probably be waved off as a simple lack of control, but rather what I _said_. That was entirely in my control and entirely out of line. I take a deep breath.

"I shouted that '_I may not be royalty, but I deserve your respect_.' Or something like that, and the water and wine exploded all over their robes and the walls."

Sokka simply gapes at me. I can't look at him—no doubt there's disappointment lingering in his eyes. As bold as he is, respect always outweighs his defiance. Not me, apparently.

Everyone is silent. Ugh. This is worse than being yelled at.

"Well, what's done is done," says Hama after a moment. She bends more tea from the pot into her cup.

"You don't seem very concerned," I say to her.

"Because I am not," she replies tartly. "What can they do? They won't put you in prison—because really, it's too late to replace you. And you did not commit treason or anything remotely close to it. The Training Room is off limits to viewers, and the private session particularly is between you and the Elites. You made a fool of them. Punishing you would require an explanation and they won't want anyone to know about what happened."

I made a fool of them? I hadn't really considered that. Somehow hearing those words from someone else makes me feel like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders. I feel better. So much better in fact that I begin spooning the warm chestnut soup into my bowl. Suddenly everything smells so much more pleasant now.

"Well, they should pay you respect," says Joo Dee, biting her lip. "I hate to think about their mood when Province 10 came into the room."

"But I don't want a low score," I say, frowning. Honestly, this was the only dark cloud above my head now. I didn't want a low score because I knew I was better than that. Maybe it was my pride, but I couldn't help it.

"It doesn't really matter," says Hama. "Many tributes receive low scores on purpose, hiding their talent until the actual Games."

I've seen this strategy before from past tributes, but I'm still a bit annoyed because it isn't _my_ strategy. I want to do well. I want a decent score. Still though, when Joo Dee issues us into the sitting room to watch the scores on one of the screens after dinner, I try to keep a positive attitude.

The Fire Lord makes his appearance on stage in what looks like the Palace, and begins reading out the list of tributes by name, province and score, starting with Province 1. I feel Sokka tense by my side. Here it comes:

"Prince Zuko, Province 1,"—Fire Lord Ozai's voice falters slightly, as though caught off guard by the parchment—"Eleven."

Sokka curses and my jaw drops in resignation. An _eleven_? That's unheard of. I'm not sure I've even seen an eleven in years. I guess the Fire Lord is reading the list in front of an audience because I can hear shouting and cheering. It dies down with a swift wave of his hand. The look on his face was somewhere between astonishment and annoyed, but it quickly morphs into triumph as his eyes scan the parchment.

"Princess Azula, Province 1—" he pauses again, only this time with a satisfied smirk on his lips—"Twelve."

This time I'm sure my jaw hits the floor. A perfect score? The Princess actually got a _perfect score_? Suddenly I'm clutching my hair between my fingers. I can't even hear the commotion of the others in the sitting room. An eleven is outstanding but a twelve? Sokka and I are so dead. We stand no chance. Any small, sliver of hope I had has now gone up in ashes.

The rest of the scores follow suit, and I almost leap out of my chair when the girl from Province 5, the one who always wore fluorescent pink, receives a ten. I find out her name is Ty Lee. Clearly I was wrong to underestimate her. She's from a Fire Province though so I should have known better. Obviously she must have done something remarkable in that room, and now I have her to deal with on top of the perfect princess and prince. Jet receives an impressive eight and poor little Toph receives a pitiful three.

Sokka manages to pull a seven, which gains a bit of encouragement and enthusiasm from our team but I'm too tense to congratulate him yet because I know I'm next. I cringe upon hearing my name, preparing for the worse.

"Katara, Province 9. Nine."

June erupts in a sort of congratulating shout of surprise.

"A nine," breathes Sokka. "You beat me…I can't believe it!"

Neither can I. Everybody is patting me on the back and congratulating me and ignoring the rest of the tributes' scores. I'm able to catch Suki's identical nine and Aang's seven.

"Nine must be your number," says June, throwing me a sly smile.

I shake my head. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Sure it does," says Sokka, slapping me on the back. I'm sure I'll have bruises in the morning. "You scared those big bad Elites with your raging and out-of-control temper." His eyes are shining when he looks at me and his voice comes out pitchy, "I'm so proud."

"Thanks, I think." I can't help smiling though. Sokka actually looks…well, _proud_. And happy. We spend the next hour going over the scores of the other tributes and talking about their possible strategies. I go to bed that night with the slightest glimmer of hope. I didn't do that bad today. I got a nine. I wasn't going to be executed. I was still alive.

I might still have a chance.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Joo Dee informs me that I'll be spending the majority of the day with her and my artists, while the rest will be spent with Pakku and Hama—that Sokka and I will be trading off. I'm not sure what to think about this but since I have no say in the matter, I grit my teeth through breakfast and scarf down as much oatmeal and fire flakes as I can manage.<p>

"The interview is important, Katara," says Joo Dee, circling me. June and my other artists have various objects of torture in their hands—brushes, lotions, sharp unfamiliar gadgets—and look like they're ready to pounce on me at any moment. "You will be live in front of the entire Fire Nation."

"Live?"

"Oh, of course!" Joo Dee clutches her mouth in a fit of giggles. "I nearly forget where you come from. _Live_, my dear, means the Watchers will be recording you so the entire world can see everything that's happening _as_ its happening."

Right. I knew that. Still though, her insult sings.

"What's the point of this stupid interview, anyway?" I growl out.

"So the world will know how wonderful you are," says Nina with a wide smile.

I snort and Joo Dee throws me a disapproving look.

"_That_ type of behavior will not be tolerated," she says sternly. "You may descend from the peasantry tundra of the north, but I am determined there is still hope for you."

I glare at her.

After two hours of agony, I'm finally allowed to leave Joo Dee and my overbearing team of artists. We went over my posture, appropriate hand gestures, the importance of eye contact, and of course, my overall _charm_. I get a few compliments—which would mean more to me if they didn't seem so surprised by it—but they worry my temper will ruin my likability. I tried telling them I'm actually good in front of people, that it's Sokka they should worry about, but they hardly let me get a word in.

After a quick lunch I meet up with Hama and Pakku. I'm a little bummed I don't get to see Sokka, but I can't help my twisted pleasure knowing he has to endure Joo Dee for the next few hours. At least I got the worst out of the way.

Or so I thought.

"I will _never_ say that!"

Pakku sighs and looks to Hama imploringly. We had been at it for about an hour and I can tell his patience is running dry with me. His eyes look like pieces of jagged ice as they bore down on me, but I stare back levelly. I refuse to show weakness in front of him.

"Katara, part of being a tribute means you sometimes…have to put aside your personal feelings," says Hama gently.

"This isn't just personal feelings," I say in a screechy voice. "This is about going against my entire code of ethics and morals!"

"I wasn't aware you _had_ such a code," says Pakku dryly.

"Besides," I go on, ignoring him. "I'm no good at lying. That's Sokka's forte."

"Well, what do you purpose we do with you, Katara?" asks Pakku, irritation coating his tone. "Let you say whatever you want, completely uncensored? Don't you want sponsors?"

I stare at him. "You say that like I'm the most unappealing person in the world. Do you really think so little of me?"

"I don't think you're completely unappealing," Pakku disagrees lightly. "But I find your _temper_ unappealing and so will the sponsors."

"Why? I thought the Elites liked my temper or why else give me a nine?"

"They might have," says Hama. I'm glad now more than ever she is here. She's like our mediator, the calming wind that tempers the flame. "But that doesn't mean the sponsors will. A short temper might mean unhinged behavior in the arena. They want tributes they can count on to get the job done. Someone out of control is not as reliable as someone _in_ control."

I do see her point, to an extent.

"I don't want to be someone I'm not," I say defiantly. "If I'm going to die out there, I'm dying as me. Not someone I'm pretending to be."

Pakku stares at me for a long moment before sitting forward in his chair.

"Now _that_," he says, "I can work with."

* * *

><p>The next morning I'm greeted with something so foul it immediately wakes me from my<p>

dream. It was the familiar but distant dream of smoke, fire and screaming. I'm glad the smell woke me before I started shouting.

I blink, my vision blurring, until June's unmistakable heavily lidded eyes and red painted lips come into view.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart," she says, dangling something crinkled and crimson and wilted over my face.

"What is that?" I ask, pushing up in my bed and pinching my nose. It smells like melting rust and salt.

"A blood lily," says June. She tosses it onto my bed and I kick if off. She scowls at me. "It's for good luck."

"Why does it smell so bad?" I ask, revolted. "Aren't flowers supposed to smell good?"

"Well I'm sure it did when it was _alive_," says June, shrugging. "You pick a fire lily, crush it with your own blood, and wait for it to die. Then you give it to someone for good luck."

I stare at her. "That's…the worst good luck gift I've ever heard of."

"Maybe that's not right," she says, pondering the thought. "Maybe the blood lilies are used at funerals."

"So you're wishing me _good luck_ toward my death?" I ask, appalled. "Thanks a lot!"

June waves me off. "It's the thought that counts. Now come on. We have a lot of work to do."

I spend the majority of the day with my artists—June overseeing everything, Nina on my hair, Cho on my skin, Pema working on my face and shoveling food in my mouth whenever there's time. While I enjoy their company, I can't help but feel a little sheepish. It isn't that I mind dressing up or looking nice, but there was never a point back at home. There was never a need to wear jewelry or fix my hair or wear pretty gowns. How would a fancy bracelet or luxurious robe help me bring down a pack of armadillo wolves? How would it put food on the table or keep us warm at night?

By the time June dresses me, I'm more than ready to get out of here. The gown she designed for me is long and willowy, made of a shimmering silver-white material. Where my last outfit showed lots of legs and arms, this one is more conservative. The sleeves flow out at my wrists and the neckline droops a little lower than I'd like. The dress glitters like tiny shimmering crystals have been embellished into the fabric.

"And the finishing touch," says June, sliding my necklace back over my head, "a little blue."

Cho places a pair of flat silver sandals at my feet and I slide into them, pleased the heel isn't high like last time. The dress is falls just short of my feet—not too long to drag but not too short to expose my ankles.

"Off to the interview, then," says June. I swiftly glance at her and can't help think how opposite we look or rather, how she could even come up with a concept like this gown. I'm half surprised I'm not wearing black, covered in heavy buckles with dark shaded eyes and a miniature skull dangling from my neck.

The artists leave first, leaving June and I behind. Before I can follow her from the room, I catch her arm,

"Why do you do this?" The look she gives my hand on her arm is enough for me to drop it. "A stylist. You don't exactly…strike me as the type of person who envisioned this as their dream job." I hope my honesty hasn't offended her but I'm too curious not to ask.

"Freedom is never free, Katara," June replies. "And choices are not always ours to choose."

"I had a choice," I say immediately, thinking of volunteering for Yue.

"Did you?" she asks, raising a brow. "A choice implies several possible outcomes. Did you ever consider them?"

I think about that for a moment.

"No," I say with a sigh. "I guess you're right. I didn't."

When I meet up with Sokka and our mentors, even Pakku doesn't seem to have anything negative to say. June may secretly despise the Capital and her employment, but she does a hell of a job.

The interview is outside on the main stage that overlooks the entire plaza, where Watchers and citizens of Province 1 will gather to watch. Hama pulls me aside just before we're called to go out.

"You have no reason to be nervous," she says gently. She's dressed unusually nice, in brand new silky blue robes and her hair is wrapped in an elegant twist. Now that her words are spoken, I realize how nervous I really am and give a shaky laugh.

"I just don't know what to expect." And I feel ridiculous, like a little girl trying to play princess.

"Ah, but the best things in life are unexpected," she says, eyes glittering. "That way we have no expectations in comparison."

With that final note of wisdom that surprisingly calms down my anxiety, I follow my team toward the elevator and down we go. The door opens and it is mad chaos as the Elites shuffle the tributes in their rightful places, preparing us to walk out onto the stage. Joo Dee and our team bids Sokka and I farewell, and I fall into step between Provinces 8 and 10.

Sokka gives my hand a reassuring squeeze as the curtains fall back and we're issued out onto the stage. The crowd below erupts in excitement as we take our places in our seats. All the tributes are seated in a single line across the stage—two chairs are placed front and center. I see the royal family—Fire Lord Ozai, General Iroh, and Prince Lu Ten—standing intimidating off to the side. I wonder where they'll be during this process and for the first time, wonder why none of them are married. Shouldn't there be a Fire Lady or something?

Its evening but the sun still gleams above, painting the sky in an array of reds and golds. Since my gown is so long I thought I'd be hot, but the material feels like I'm wearing sheets of cool rain. I can't help but envy whatever sources June gets her products from.

Guards are stationed around the plaza, some holding Watchers and others holding sleek metal weapons I've never seen before. Again I'm surprised by the amount of people here, by how they're cheering and shouting in excitement. What's so great about this? They're cheering for us, knowing all of us except one are going to die.

Fire Lord Ozai commands the center of the stage, and that's all the public needs to fall silent. I can see it in their expressions from here: they fear him. I suppose, looking at him now, I can understand. Tall, broad shoulders, stiff posture, rigid jaw. Long robes with pointed shoulders and a five pronged crown. My mind immediately shifts toward his children—toward the tributes from Province 1. The Fire Lord willingly put both of them into the Games; knowing he'd have to watch, if they both made it to the end, one of his children kills the other.

What kind of person did that?

After the Fire Lord's speech, a man named Qin Lee takes the stages and waves at the shouting crowd. Qin Lee has hosted the interviews for as long as I can remember. I know I probably shouldn't like him because he's part of the Games, but he has that sort of charming quality that's hard to ignore. He's wiry and slightly frail. Grey sideburns are adjoined by a pointy beard, and his gold eyes gleam with excitement when he calls Prince Zuko to the center of the stage.

I try not to appear too eager but I can't help my curiosity. I'm sure the Watcher's are too zoned in on him anyway to see my attentiveness.

The way Zuko carries himself, the way he moves toward his chair and sits with a purpose, screams confidence and authority. I can't help but feel a little envious. I hope my walk looks like that. It takes a few moments for the crowd to stop cheering.

"No introductions needed here," says Qin Lee happily. "An honor, as always, Prince Zuko."

Zuko says nothing. I get the impression—and so does Qin Lee apparently—that small talk is out of the question.

"Now I must ask, because it's something everyone wishes to know: Where you surprised to be chosen as male tribute, being royalty and all?"

Normally this wouldn't strike me as personal, but we were talking about someone's _father_ selecting them into a death arena by choice. I sucked in a breath, preparing for a volcanic eruption of sorts.

"No," Zuko grits out. I can see his fists clinched against his thighs. Surprised he may not be, but angry, most certainly. "And I am honored to serve as male tribute for Province 1."

The crowd erupts in applause and Qin Lee mirrors their enthusiasm. The rest of Zuko's interview, only three short minutes in length, is followed closely with yes and no answers. He doesn't elaborate or explain anything in detail. I'm not sure what angle he's playing at, if he even is at all, but his final line sends a shiver down my spine:

"You have no idea what I'm capable of."

What scares me most is that I can't tell who he was addressing.

When Azula replaces him, her behavior is strikingly different than his. She speaks with clarity and confidence, knowing just when to leave the audience hanging and when to go into detail. It's like she was born to captivate an audience. I find even_ I'm_ drawn in to listening to her, like I'm hanging on her every word. When Qin Lee asks her about her twelve, she rallies back with,

"Well, did you expect me to get anything less?"

I guess she has a point. I'm glad when her turn is over, and Qin Lee moves on to the other tributes.

For the first time since my arrival, I hear the Province 4 male tribute speak. Longshot, as I nicknamed him, answers in the same manner as Zuko—yes or no answers, and sometimes silence. Jet is just as charming and smooth as Azula, and gains quite a bit enthusiasm from the ladies in the crowd. No surprise there. What does surprise me is the female tribute from Seven. A mop of brown hair and dark slit eyes—her ferocity is quite startling despite her tiny size. She tells Qin Lee she goes by the name of Smellerbee, which to me sounds even stranger than the nickname I came up with for Longshot.

Toph gains a lot of sympathy from the crowd, and I think they cut her interview a minute short because the audience starts shouting protests of cruelty and injustice. I wonder if this is her angle because she seems satisfied when she sits back down in her seat.

Before I know it, Sokka is called to the stage and I internally tense in anticipation. After about thirty seconds into the interview, I don't know why I ever worried about him. His natural humor and charm comes out perfectly, and he has the entire crowd roaring with laughter. I can't believe I have to follow this act. I'm glad his interview goes well but at the same time I want to strangle him.

When my name is called, I stalk past my brother and try to ignore the creeping chills up my spine. _I can do this_, I tell myself. I can keep my head.

I bow to Qin Lee and take my seat shakily, feeling the intensity of the gazes and Watchers on me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading. I'd appreciate your thoughts! **

**Tributes Updated List (ages):**

**Province 1 – Zuko (18) and Azula (16)**

**Province 2 – Chan (17) and Mai (17)**

**Province 3 – **

**Province 4 – Longshot (16)**

**Province 5 – Ty Lee (16)**

**Province 6 – Jet (17) and Song (16)**

**Province 7 – Haru (17) and Smellerbee (15)**

**Province 8 – Matsu (18) and Toph (14)**

**Province 9 – Sokka (17) and Katara (16)**

**Province 10 – Nato (15) and Ming (12)**

**Province 11 – Aang (14)**

**Province 12 – Suki (16)**

**Almost everyone is listed! Keep in mind, I'm listing them as Katara acknowledges them or figures out who they are. I have the full list complete and once the games start, you will be able to see everyone. ;)**


	7. Moving Mountains

**A/N: Thanks for your patience guys. Chapter title is referenced from the amazing score Moving Mountains by Two Steps From Hell. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"Rise and rise again until lambs become lions." - <em>Russell Crowe<em>, Robin Hood

**Chapter 7 - Moving Mountains**

Qin Lee gives me an encouraging smile.

"Katara, that's really a beautiful name," he compliments. "Caldera City must be quite a change from Province 9. Tell us, what's impressed you most since you arrived?"

"The hot water," I say before I can stop myself. Qin Lee laughs and so do a few from the audience.

"You don't have hot water in Province 9?"

"Well, we have cold water," I say. "But if we want hot water, we have to ask a Guard to heat it up." I don't have to add _and pay for it_.

"Ah yes, the northern most point in our world. I don't think my good looks could survive such cold climates." The crowd laughs and I can't help a sheepish smile. "And you've certainly made an impression here at the Capital. How on earth did you manage to _wear_ water?"

I glance out into the crowd. I find June, sitting near the front with the other stylists, and catch her eye. She gives me a satisfied smirk and waves a finger at me.

"June won't tell me," I say. "She calls all the shots."

More laughs from the audience.

"Ah, of course! The stylists have their secrets. Well, you certainly looked stunning. And tonight as well!"

I blush and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. The audience gives agreeing shouts, which only makes me blush even more. My 'thank you' is barely audible.

"Now that's some brother you have there," Qin Lee comments after the crowd dies down, pointing over his shoulder. "Are the two of you close?"

Surely he must know we are, because he knows I volunteered. But, I realize, this is his way of helping me—of giving me the chance to look good in front of the audience. That's how Qin Lee is though. He always tries to help the tributes in their interviews.

"We are," I say honestly. "He's my best friend."

I get a lot of _aww's_ from the audience. Good. Sympathy is good.

"Is that why you volunteered, then?"

My throat swells slightly. This is going into personal territory, which I had wanted to avoid. Sokka's interview hadn't even mentioned me, because he kept diverting the crowd with his jokes and humor. But I didn't have jokes and humor.

"Yes," I finally manage, swallowing.

"And what did your parents think?"

_Parents_? Hearing the plural word throws me for a second. When I was young, the kids in my lessons would ask about my mom—did I have one, where was she, etc. It wasn't until I was about eight did people finally stop asking. But Qin Lee, like those kids at the time, didn't know any better.

"My mom died when I was young," I say quietly. More sympathy _awws_ from the audience. "My dad…he was sad. But he was proud of me too." I hear my voice starting to shake so I clamp my mouth shut. You could hear a coin drop in the audience now.

"I don't doubt it. It's very noble of you," says Qin Lee gently. "Not many volunteer for the sake of the other tribute. That kind of sacrifice is rare in today's world."

"I couldn't let him go out there alone," I blurt out, now feeling oddly like I can't stop talking. "I know he's my big brother, but little sisters are protective too."

The crowd seems to be in agreement with me. Qin Lee nods enthusiastically.

"They sure are." He leans in closer. "Can we expect a pair of tributes to fight as a team this year? The first in many, many years?"

The crowd is hanging on my word. This is the question, no doubt, everyone is wondering. Qin Lee didn't bother asking the siblings from Province 1 because well, it's pretty obvious they aren't close like Sokka and I. My eyes find Pakku and Hama in the crowd and I sense their wariness. I can't tell what they want me to say. But it doesn't really matter because I already know what I'm going to say.

"You can count on it."

The crowd is in an uproar of excitement at my response and thankfully the bell goes off before Qin Lee can ask me any more questions, signaling the end of my interview.

_Well_, I thought, _this either really helped us or really buried us into the ground._

No going back now though.

The rest of the interviews feel like a blur to me, particularly because I'm too concerned with wondering how much I blew our chances, or how much I raised them. I caught a bit from Aang's interview—he was sweet and innocent, a definite crowd pleaser. Suki was just as evasive and sly as I predicted. The anthem plays over the plaza and we're led off stage and back inside. I can feel the eyes of the other tributes on my back, and now I'm starting to realize how much Pakku will want to kill me.

I certainly hadn't _coasted in the middle_ during that interview. But I didn't lose my temper either, so that should count as something, right?

Sokka and I meet Joo Dee and the rest of our team back on our floor in the sitting room. As usual, it begins with a round of shouting and pointing fingers—all directed at me.

"Why is everyone making this a big deal?" asks June, crossing her arms. "So Katara said she and Sokka were fighting as a team, so what? Didn't everyone expect it?"

"Perhaps, but you no longer have the element of surprise," says Pakku. "You've pretty much gained all the sponsors attention while targeting yourselves to the tributes. Congratulations."

I scowl at him. "At least we'll get sponsors now! It's not like you gave me any useful advice anyway."

"Sokka did enough on his own to get you all sponsors!"

"He did enough to get _himself_ sponsors! What about me? I need them too!"

Sokka turns to me, looking crestfallen. I clamp my mouth shut, half regretting my words. I didn't mean to make it sound like he had betrayed me or anything, but I still felt a little jealous at how well the crowd perceived him. He was easily the favorite, aside from Azula and possibly Jet.

"Katara," begins Sokka, taking a hesitant step toward me and using his 'big brother' voice, "every item the sponsors send to me is yours too. I thought you knew that."

I did know that. But it isn't the point. I open my mouth to retaliate but Hama cuts me off,

"Presenting the two of you as a team is, at this point, the wisest idea." I look at her, astonished and grateful. She gives me a small smile. "Not only do you shine in the prospect of sponsors, but the other tributes will most likely want to join forces with you. You stand a greater chance at survival, because you have each other." She turns to look at me. "And in four days, you will be in the arena. You will have each other, whatever you find, and the skills you take with you. Now Katara, I think I should show you what I know."

Even though I'm hungry and don't want to miss dinner, I follow Hama to our floor training room, too eager to learn something about Waterbending. The training room is spacious enough with thick mats on the floor, a few potted plants for decoration, and several scattered chairs. There aren't any weapons, which I suppose makes sense since it's illegal to attack another tribute—even one from your province—until the Games.

Hama strides to the center of the room before turning back to face me.

"What I am about to show you," she begins, "is something I learned when I was a little girl. You have to realize Katara that times were harsher when I was young. Fire Lord Azulon was a newly appointed Fire Lord and ruthless to boot. He strove for world domination and it was under his reign that Caldera City was able to seize control over the world. I grew up in Province 9 and lived with my grandmother. One cold winter she had fallen ill, and in my desperation to help her I stole medical herbs from the chief's hut. The Guards caught me and threw me into a prison cell. My punishment was imprisonment for six months."

I stare, open mouthed. "Six_ months_?"

I can't imagine what kind of Head Guard throws a young girl into prison for six months because she had tried to heal her sick grandmother, stolen items or not.

Hama nods with darkened eyes. "We were given bread to eat, and water to drink. At the time, I didn't know I was a bender at all, but all prisoners' had their hands and feet bound to prevent bending during meal time. And yet every night, I felt energy pulse through me as if I had just feasted on a rich and hearty meal. Every full moon it was enhanced, this raw energy pleading to escape from me. And then the oddest thing happened. As though sensing my unease and stress, another prisoner whispered, '_where there is life, there is water_.' And then I knew."

Hama twists her fingers, revealing long, pointed nails and suddenly the water from the potted plant comes to her aid and curls around her nails, hardening like ice. She takes her pointer finger and slices the palm of her hand.

I gasp and jump back. "What are you doing?"

But then, I watch as if in slow motion, as Hama twirls her bloody finger and the blood goes _back_ _into_ her palm. The cut seals itself like patchwork and leaves no scar behind on her skin.

"Bloodbending," Hama finishes. "The ability to control the blood within a body."

"But—" I splutter.

"About 75% of the human body is made up of water, Katara. And about 55% of blood is made up of water. This technique only proves how resourceful a Waterbender can be." She flings the icy daggers from her fingers across the room and they stick to the wall. "Water is everywhere. Just like the air and just like earth. You are not at a disadvantage in the arena. If you control their blood, you control them. _They_ will be at _your_ mercy."

I go to bed that night thinking about Bloodbending and Waterbending. Something about using the blood and water on another human to go against their will is slightly frightening to me. But at the same time, Bloodbending could very well save my life or Sokka's. Hama had also showed me how I didn't need a large source of water like a lake. Just like she did with the plant, water can be pulled from nature or from thin air—from the sweat off my body, from the beads in the grass—as long as I keep an open mind.

But Hama had also told me it took her years to be able to Bloodbend without the full moon. Now I understand how she had won the Black Games those many years ago, and how the final tributes had dropped dead. She had used Bloodbending to stop their hearts on the night of the full moon.

I turn over in my bed and pull my covers up to my ears. Everyone keeps telling me the Games change people—that you do what you have to in order to survive. But could I do that? Could I kill someone by stopping their heart, by forcing them to drown themselves or to stab themselves with a knife? What if Sokka's life was on the line?

Even if I could do it, which I'm sure I can't, I don't know if I could—which scares me, because I shouldn't even think about doing such a thing. But everyone is right. Maybe the Games do change people.

* * *

><p>The next three days I spend training with Hama and, to my surprise, Pakku. Something in him must have changed his mind, because he drills me with Waterbending techniques. I secretly admit to myself that he's just as amazing as I've heard. I practice my swordsmanship and spearing with Sokka between breaks, but then it's back to Waterbending. All day I train, only stopping to eat whenever June or Nina forces me. I've gone into a sort of machine mode, programming on a specific wavelength and unable to stop. Joo Dee pops in and out every day, gushing over sponsors and prospects, but I ignore her. I can't rely on anyone but myself out in the arena.<p>

I have to keep this mentality even though I have Sokka. Should something happen to him, I have to keep fighting. I refuse to give up and something in me has sparked a fire inside. Maybe it was Hama's story, maybe it was the recapping of the interviews we had watched the other day—I don't know. All I know is I'm going to train and train and train until I bleed. I won't go down without a fight.

"Why can't I get this?" I seethe, launching a current of water at the wall in anger. It drips down the ivory paint like fallen tears.

"Your mind is not clear," says Hama, lacing her fingers in front of her. "You cannot hope to heal others if what's inside you is not healed itself."

I snort at this ridiculous theory. In the past few days I've managed to learn enough to pass as an intermediate Waterbender—extraordinary improvement, Hama had said. But I _still_ couldn't grasp the concept of healing.

"Tomorrow we'll be in the arena," I grit. "I need to learn how to heal before then." I've already accepted the fact that there's no way I can Bloodbend without the full moon. That means I need to survive at least twenty days, if my calculations are correct.

"Healing cannot be learned overnight, Katara," says Hama gently. "And not every Waterbender can heal."

"Are you saying I can't do it?"

"No, I'm saying I don't think you'll be able to do it until you really _want_ to do it."

I snort. "I really want to do it right now!"

"Not as much as you'll want to if Sokka is bleeding to death," Hama says quietly. She walks over to me and places a withered hand over my heart. "Healing comes from here."

"I really am trying," I mutter pathetically.

"I know you are. Come." She turns and starts walking from the room. "You need your rest. Tomorrow is a big day."

It isn't just a big day. It very well could be my _last_ day. Tomorrow I'll be in the arena.

I thought when I went to bed I wouldn't be able to sleep. Turns out having Hama and Pakku drill me for hours on end is enough to override my anxiety. I sleep dreamlessly. No screaming, no fire, no smoke. But when I awake the next morning, I know that in a few hours that's exactly what I'll find.

June and my artists are here right at the crack of dawn. She gives me my final outfit and I swear she looks downer than usual. But I'm too excited to look in to it. I'm blinded by the arctic blue.

"I figured you'd want to wear these colors," she says, helping me dress.

I slid into a pair of dark gray pants before slipping on a blue kimono tunic over it. It's sleeveless, and the slits along the tunic allow my legs to maneuver more comfortably. I tuck the gray pants inside tall boots.

"Here," says June, handing me a black piece of fabric. "In case it gets cold. You have to wear it now though."

I slide it on, tucking Yue's necklace beneath it. I have to keep reminding myself that nothing will appear inside the amulet until I need it most. I'm still not sure if I believe Yue or not and honestly, I don't want to find out. I'd rather not get to the point of _needing it most_. I pull my hair back into a high wolf tail so it doesn't drape around my face.

I say goodbye to my artists and can't help feel a stab of pain when I leave them. I don't want to admit it, but I've grown a little attached to them lately. In a way, they're the closest thing to a friend that I've had in years. (Besides Sokka, of course) They wish me luck and tell me they haven't met a female tribute from Nine more likely to win than me.

When June leads me from my chamber, I eat a quick breakfast with the rest of my team. You would have thought we were already dead based on the dreary mood and thick silence. Even Sokka can't rally up a few jokes. I wish he would. I can't stop thinking about what's going to be in the arena. I try to focus on home, on the soft fluffy snow, the cool air, Head Guard Meng who really is an answered prayer that we have her, and of my dad. It helps a little but at the same time makes it worse.

It isn't until we're on our way to the hot air balloons does the panic really start to settle in. This is where Sokka and I part. I won't see him again until we're in the arena. He doesn't hesitate and pulls me against him. I beg myself not to cry. Not now, before we're even out there.

"Remember what we talked about," he says in my ear. "At the start of the Games, you get out of there. I'll find you."

"What if you don't find me?" My voice cracks.

"I will," he promises. "I will."

I glance to the rest of my team imploringly. "Any last minute advice?"

"Stay alive," says Pakku dryly. "Use your head. Don't pick fights you can't finish. No friends—only allies. Flee from the opening battle, find another water source and stay up in the trees. Run. Always run when you're in doubt."

That was more than I bargained for. I nod, absorbing everything he's told me.

"You just worry about you, Katara," says Joo Dee, sounding genuine and kind, "let us worry about your sponsors." Her eyes suddenly well with tears and she kisses my cheek. "Stay strong." She kisses Sokka next on the cheek, gives us one last sad yet determined look, and enters the elevator. I can't believe it, but I'm sad to see her go.

"Remember what I taught you," says Hama. Her usual hard eyes look soft and calming. "When you find yourself lost, just follow your heart." She leans in so only I can hear her. "They will be at _your_ mercy. And they will fear _you_. Do not forget it."

* * *

><p>The ride in the air balloon might have been nostalgic had I not felt so sick. The ride was smooth enough—it was just my twisted insides. The balloon itself is huge, made of what looks like metal. There are several Guards on board but none of them talk to me. Not that I want to talk to them, but it might have calmed down my anxiety. We pass wide and gaping mountains, over the ocean and through jungles. Every once awhile I would think, <em>okay this is it<em>, and then we'd keep flying.

The air balloons are the main means of transport during the Games. If a sponsor decides to send me something, this is how I get it.

Now however, each tribute is lowered down from their air balloon, strategically spaced out around the Base. I know there will be a giant golden phoenix, supplies and food scattered amongst it. Typically this is where almost half the tributes are killed, during the first blood bath after the gong rings out. Pakku told me I need to run away from here, put as much distance between me and the other tributes as I can, but I don't know if I'll be able to.

It feels like we've been flying for hours when a Guard calls,

"Tribute Nine, come here."

When he places the blindfold over my eyes I know we're close. I'm not allowed to get an aereal view of the arena and in fact, I have to leave the blindfold on until I hear the announcer's voice. And then there's another sixty seconds until the gong goes off.

Then the Games begin.

I feel totally disorientated when the Guard leads me into the lowering basket. The first thing I notice is the weather is warm with a slight breeze. No rain either. Good.

When I reach the ground, the Guard pulls me out and places me on what feels like a stone step. I can hear other air balloons somewhere in the distance. My heart is pounding in my ears.

"Do not move until you are instructed," the Guard says. "Do you copy, Nine?"

_No, _I think. _I will not lose who I am. I'm dying as me._

"Katara," I say. "My name is Katara. Not Nine."

The Guard says nothing and I hear the balloon take off minutes later, and I'm left with an uneasy silence. I want to rip off this blindfold, to get my senses working in full swing. I want to examine the area and the other tributes, not stare into a dark abyss and let my imagination do the work. My mind immediately travels to Toph. This is how she feels all the time. I wonder if they even bothered to blindfold her. I grimace at the thought.

It feels like forever as I wait, breathing in the fresh smell of pine and sap. It's incredible how time differs just by taking away your sight. Finally, the familiar voice of the Games announcer booms over the arena,

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome and let the Seventy-fifth Black Games begin!"

I rip off my blindfold and glance around. Sixty seconds, I think. Sixty seconds to take everything in. The first thing I notice is a blazing light. It's so bright out that it takes my eyes at least ten seconds to adjust.

Fifty seconds.

My eyes find Sokka first, standing four tributes away. All the tributes, I notice, are spaced evenly around the enormous golden phoenix. The feathers are curled along the ground, holding what will give us life in the arena: food, medicine, garments, water containers. I see weapons scattered around—swords, maces, bows and arrows, spears. Soaring high into the air, at least fifty feet, are the giant flag poles that circle the Base. Twelve are gold for the girls; twelve are crimson for the boys. Each flag has a number, representing the tribute and their province.

I see my gold flag, the number 9 waving in the wind. When a tribute is killed, their flag is brought down. Supposedly the flags can be spotted from just about anywhere in the arena. This is a way for the tributes to keep an eye on who is left in the Games.

Twenty seconds.

My eyes swoop around, forgetting the other tributes. I see a huge lake a little off in the distance. Definitely too close. Pakku would scream at me from the Games Headquarters if I went there. Straight across from me looks like a grassy meadow. No trees. I can't go there either. Behind me appears to be sparse piney woods. This is where I have to go. And pray I can find water.

Ten seconds.

My eyes find Sokka again. I can't read his expression—he's too far away. I can hear his thoughts though. I can hear exactly what he'd say to me right now: _Run. Run as far away as you can and I'll find you. I promise._

The closest tribute to me is Prince Zuko. Our eyes lock and I can see the hard determination in him. He wants to win this just as badly as anyone. There's more on the line for him than just living. I can see that, looking at him now. But there's something else in his eyes too, a sort of mocking amusement. His words from the other day replay in my head: _You'll be dead in the first three days of the Games._

The gong rings out.

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><p><strong>AN: And so the Games finally begin! Place your bets, readers! Now that you know most of the tributes, if you were a sponsor, who would you bet on to win? Just another warning, but future chapters will be violent at times from here on out. And sad. Characters HAVE to die. I'm sorry..that's the nature of this story. Anyway, reviews are always appreciated. =) I tend to update faster when I know people want me to, haha.**


	8. Alliance

**A/N: Wow I didn't expect so many reviews last chapter..thank you guys! I was able to write this much quicker than I thought. Enjoy! P.S. is anyone else going to the Harry Potter premiere tonight? I sure am! ;)**

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><p>"Are you the kind that sees signs, that sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? Or, look at the question this way: Is it possible that there are no coincidences?"- <em>Signs<em>

**Chapter 8 - Alliance**

As soon as the gong rings out, it's mad chaos. Fire and earth meet, erupting into a kind of supernatural explosion. My legs start to move but my brain keeps me where I am so I end up doing a kind of awkward side-to-side jog. I can hear Sokka's voice over the chaos but I ignore him. I know he wants me to run but I just can't leave the Base empty handed. I sprint forward and scoop up the closest thing to me—a loaf of bread. A flash of red catches my attention as I bend down—it's a satchel of sorts. I have to jump and jolt in all directions to avoid being hit by fire and rocks and trees that the Earthbender's are using. Thankfully no one is really paying attention to me but rather engaging in a bending battle.

My hand grips the strap of the satchel—but so does another hand.

I glance up and meet the deep grey eyes of the boy from Province 12. Dachi, I think his name is. I pull hard, attempting to rip it out of his grasp. I'm about to pull free when suddenly he gasps and falls forward. Blood splutters across my face. I stagger back, gaping as the boy falls to the ground.

That's when I notice the knife in his back.

It's a clean shot, perfectly executed to paralyze. Dachi might not even be dead. Suddenly I feel like I might throw up. But then I look up and see Mai, the girl from Province 2, sprinting in my direction with a handful of knives.

Damn. This must be her specialty and explain how she scored an eight during the Elite's practice session.

Prey and predator, I force myself to think. I reach down and yank the knife out of Dachi's back and swing my satchel overhead. Dachi's cry of pain lets me know he isn't dead but I can't afford to pity him. It's either me or him and since I'm not paralyzed I have a better shot. I have to be the predator here. I have a knife, but then again Mai has at least a dozen.

Pakku's words suddenly ring out to me: _Run. Always run when in doubt_.

That's what I do. With only one knife and no water, I stand no chance against Mai and her knives. So I run as fast as I can, sprinting toward the woods. I pull the satchel behind my head protecting myself from flinging knives. The woods aren't far and it only takes me about twenty seconds to reach them. I can hear the sound of blades whirling past me as I weave through the trees. I know Mai won't want to waste all her knives on me, and probably won't come after me alone. Not when all the good stuff is back at the Base. When I no longer hear the sound of whistling metal, I pause and turn.

I've never seen anything like this. There's a huge bending battle at the Base, and the non benders are hacking away at one another with the weapons they found. A few bodies are scattered along the ground but I can't make them out from here. I see no blue fire. Azula must be letting everyone else kill each other first. She's probably watching though, accessing everyone's strengths and weaknesses. Clever predator. I don't see Sokka amongst the fighters. This pains me so much I almost sprint back. What if he's one of those fallen bodies left to wither and die alone on the ground? How could I of just abandoned him like that? I should go back.

I start to move when I hear Hama's calm voice in my mind: _No. If you go back, you will be killed. Sokka told you to get out of there. Dead or alive, that's what he'll want._

I contemplate this. The lake is too far and the other tributes probably won't let me near it before I'm blown to bits or burned alive. I could pull the water out of the plants but honestly I don't want to give that skill away just yet. I have to remember Sokka's promise and keep moving. I need to find somewhere safe to make camp and another water source.

For the next hour or so, I alternate between jogging and walking, putting as much distance between me and the Base as I can. This is an advantage I had coming into these Games. I have a pretty high endurance level, used to spending hours hunting down food back at home or running away from large packs of armadillo wolves or buffalo yaks. The boots June gave me are comfortable too, and this makes it easier for me to keep going. I refuse to think about Sokka, about Toph and even Aang.

I can't afford to think about anyone other than myself right now.

As I move through the woods, I examine the trees. They're tall, full of thick branches and bushy leaves. It gives just enough cover, and I think I'll be able to climb them and hide out up there at night. The outfit June made for me is a comfortable and loose fabric so I'll be able to maneuver in just about anything. I carry Mai's knife in my hand, jumping at any sound I hear. Usually it's only small animals. I note this as a small victory because it means I have a food source. If only I could find some water.

I keep moving.

The solitude I find is something that comforts me. Sokka and I spent hours hunting alone, exploring the tundra at the Poles. I'm used to the silence, sitting and moving and hunting for hours without rest. I'm fine with going out on my own. But even though I feel just as alone now, I know I'm not. Not really. While some of the Elites are watching from the Games Headquarters at the Royal Palace, others are stationed inside this arena. Most carry Watchers, recording everything that's going on so the rest of the world can watch. These Elites are trained to blend in, master benders of all four elements. I couldn't find them even if I tried.

I doubt I'm being watched right now though. How interesting is it for a loan girl to trudge through the forest? No. The Capital will want the blood and fighting. There's a good chance it's not over at the Base. I've seen it last for hours back at home before.

I just wish the sun would set already. Not because I looking forward to nighttime—in fact the idea frightened me—but typically a cannon is fired when a tribute is killed, and at sunset the flags are dropped of those who died. Since this is the opening day and many tributes are killed during the first hour or two, they withhold the cannons until later. As long as I don't see the red number nine drop, I'll be able to keep going.

My ears are extra sensitive, waiting for the sound of the cannons. It isn't until late afternoon do I finally hear them. I had just stopped for a rest and count the shots in my head as they go off: One…two…three…on and on until they reach seven. Wow. That has to be the lowest amount of casualties in a long time of the Games. Only seven died at the Base. That leaves seventeen still alive. I'm sure the sponsors are going crazy.

I hope Sokka is one of those seventeen. I have to climb up a tree a few feet and immediately turn toward the flags—they're far away but still high enough that I can see from this angle. I wonder how many miles I am away from the Base now. They begin lowering one by one and I can practically feel my heart leaping from my chest.

The first flag lowered is red—the young boy from Province 3. I don't remember his name, but that's the only Fire Province tribute that was killed. Next is gold, the girl from Province 4. Longshot is still alive, then. Another gold flag is lowered, this one from Province 6—Song. I didn't think she'd make it far, but I can't help a wave of pity that she didn't last a day. The next flags that drop are Province 10, both—wait…ten? That means Sokka and Toph made it! I let out a small shrill of excitement and then cover up my mouth.

Sokka did it. He's alive! And Toph, against all the odds has evaded death. I want to scream and cry out of joy but I focus on the next few flags. All the Airbender's are eliminated except Aang. Another wave of relief washes over me even though my heart breaks that the twelve year old died. The last tribute is of course Dachi, which means Suki is still alive.

I go over who is left in my head: The royal siblings—no surprise there. Mai and Chan from Two. The small girl from Three and Longshot from Four. Ty Lee and the boy from Five. Jet from Six. Haru and Smellerbee from Seven, along with Toph and Matsu from Eight. Sokka and I…which leaves Aang from Eleven and Suki from Twelve. Okay, that's pretty long list. I want to figure out who on that list are benders but fatigue is quickly taking over my senses. I'm just so tired. I'll figure it out in the morning.

I slump down a tree, tossing my satchel on the ground. Actually I should probably see what's inside now that I have a moment of rest. Night will be falling soon and I need to figure out where I'm going to sleep. I flip open the flap and carefully pull out the items inside: one thin black sleeping roll. A bottle of what looks like a minor healing medicine. A small box of fire flakes. Strips of some kind of dried meat jerky. Two spark rocks. And a single bar of soap.

It's not much but it is better than I expected. Now I have more food—aside from the bread I had taken from the Base—spark rocks to start a fire, something to sleep on, and supplies to keep me from gaining a disease. Still no water. I've been on the run all day and it's been warm. I don't think we're anywhere in the Fire Provinces because the heat isn't as sticky, but we're probably near the Earth Provinces and this time of year it's going to be hot all day. The air is too thick to pull any water from it so the plants are my only option, except I have nowhere to store it.

Still though, a little drink is all I need and I might as well try. I stand up and gain my stance, opening my mind. Arms out, I move gracefully and harness the water within the plants and pull it to my aid. I tilt my head back and let the water drip into my mouth. It has a funny taste but I don't complain. The water is refreshingly cool on the tongue.

I don't drink much but it's enough to moisten my throat. I look down at the plants from the water I've drawn and frown. They're completely dried up and lifeless. Water gives life to all living things, and I've destroyed that. I shouldn't let this bother me—they're just plants—but it still leaves me feeling slightly uneasy. I wonder if Pakku and Hama were impressed, and if sponsors saw me use that technique. Would I gain a few new sponsors?

Twilight is about to fall and it's just another reminder I need to make camp. I'm starving too, from walking and running practically all day. I decide once I find somewhere to sleep, I'll allow myself to eat a small slice of bread. I keep hearing birds chirping above and that means they'll have nests somewhere around. I just need to follow their chirping in the morning.

I continue down the slope that leads into a valley. I hope it rises soon because I don't like feeling trapped in a low place. Walking downhill gives me an odd urge to start sprinting. I can hear a few sounds of the night creatures that have come out. I've encountered plenty of huge animals back at home but I'm still a little leery. Who knows what kind of predators they have here?

_Azula is my number one predator_, I think immediately. There can't be a worse creature than her out here. I keep this in mind as I continue walking.

The moon gives me a little assurance as I find a sturdy tree to make camp. As a Waterbender, I'm stronger at night than the Firebenders. Not that it really matters. I have no water anyway. I'm sure I can pull more from the plants though, like I had earlier if it comes down to it. I wouldn't put it past the apparent master benders like Azula and Zuko to continue hunting through the night. They might be weaker than normal, but that would probably put them on even ground with the other Earthbenders. Sokka said Haru was a strong bender, and based on the flags he's still alive, but I don't know if he's good enough to take on the prince and princess. Definitely not if they're working together.

The tributes who survived the Base bloodbath will have stalked up on food, supplies, weapons, water, you name it. I have a feeling the majority of the goods went to the Fire Province tributes. They always gang up together and take out everyone else before turning on each other. My only shot is to stay hidden enough from them that they take out everyone else and then turn on each other before finding me.

Wow. Now I sound like Pakku and I've completely ruled out Sokka. What is wrong with me? I feel so angry with myself I want to scream. How could I even think about surviving when it meant Sokka would have to be killed?

_You change in the Games_, Hama had said. I shake my head. No. I refuse to let these Game's change me.

I climb up the tree, maneuvering through the thick branches. I slip once but gain my footing before toppling down. I find a fork between two branches, and it's wide enough that I'll be able to set out my roll and make a bed. The branches are high enough on either side so I shouldn't fall to the ground if I roll in my sleep. I nestle into my new bed, surprised by how comfortable it is. I tuck my satchel into the bedroll, sliding my hand through one of the straps. The only thing I'm worried about now is my nightmares. I tend to wake up screaming from them and well, that might give away my location a bit.

Still, I can't _not_ sleep, so I have to try and pray I wake up without screaming. I close my eyes, thinking of Province 9 and the comforting icy walls I claimed I despised so much…letting my mind relax and drift toward sleep.

_Snap! _My eyes snap open in a flash. I have that uncomfortable feeling that you get when you've been asleep and wake suddenly. Still slightly a bit dazed, I peer from my branches toward the source of the sound. I don't see anything. Maybe I imagined the snapping sound. But I can hear something else. Something like…ruffling leaves. And yet there's hardly any breeze. _Snap!_ Okay, now I'm sure I didn't imagine it that time. Fully awake, I sit up as quietly as I can. My eyes scan the darkness, searching for any movement. I still see nothing but—

There! About thirty feet away I can make out a shadowy figure. Crap. They're coming in this direction. I slink back into my bedroll. On the ground where I have my footing, I'm confident that I might be a threat. Up here, forty or so feet off the ground, not so much. If it's a Firebender down there and they see me, I'm in big trouble. All they have to do is burn the tree down and I'm dead. You would think since we're in a forest that there'd be giant forest fires because of the benders but it isn't the case. That's the thing about Firebending. It's the one element that requires the most control. It can come out of nowhere or be reduced to nothing. The Elites do a good job dissipating if it starts doing damage. See, the Games can't function if the entire arena has gone up in flames now can they? So the Elites are allowed to manipulate the arena however they want—they just can't use their bending to help the tributes. I'm sure they had hell during the opening bloodbath.

I squint as the shadowy figure comes near me. Whoever it is, he or she is moving silently aside from the two snaps from the twigs. They're really close now—I can make out the height, which looks too short to be any of the boys I've seen so far. I duck down just as they pass under me, managing to catch the back of her short hair. It's Suki. It has to be. She moves quickly and I'm amazed by how stealthy she is. She's alone too, and if I had a bow and arrow I could maybe shoot her from here. Oh well.

Suki is out of my sight in seconds and this relaxes me somewhat. I'm glad it wasn't a Firebender. Suki seems like the type of girl who could climb this tree easily though, probably fight one footed on a branch to boot. Maybe I got lucky.

A few hours later tells me I'm not lucky at all. I awake once more to the sound of footsteps. The sky is lightening so dawn must be approaching. These people don't bother covering up their footsteps or their voices.

"Why are we following this girl again?" The voice is drawn out and a bit monotone—a girl's voice, but clearly uninterested in the topic at hand.

"Because she could be an asset, Mai." Crap! It's Azula. And apparently Mai. Of course they teamed up together. "And if she won't join us, we'll eliminate her."

"She doesn't stand a chance." This tone is deep and masculine. I'm pretty sure it's Chan.

"What about your brother?" asks a bubbly and slightly frenzied voice. This one I remember from the interview. Ty Lee. Great. So far they have four in their group. I'm pretty sure the small girl from Three will be with them too. So that's five. But Zuko…?

Azula stops just several feet below me. I can feel my heart racing. Damn it! The sun will be up any minute and by then the trees won't conceal me. Maybe one on one with Suki I stood a chance if I got lucky but against four or five Fire Province tributes? No. The princess places her hands behind her back, clearly calculating.

"My _dearest_ brother has made his choice," she says coldly. "I knew all along he'd go off on his own and that's all as well. If he wants to assume the role as a _traitor_ he will be treated and hunted down as such."

She strides off, leaving her army to follow behind. I watch them go and saw my confirmation of the small girl from Three was correct. She trails behind Ty Lee, looking a little scared and lost. I almost feel sorry for her. _Almost_. There's another male, the one from Five I think. So that's six.

"Man, I thought they'd _never_ leave."

My head whips around so fast I nearly break my neck and I almost cry out in alarm. My eyes land on a pair of deep gray ones. It's Aang. _Sitting in the air_ just a few feet above me. He holds up his hands, eyes wide and concerned.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."

"What do you think you're doing?" I hiss, immediately maneuvering myself in a semi-fighting stance. Or well, as much of a stance as I can in this damn tree. How did I not see him? Or hear him?

"I saw you and I thought…" he blushes and rubs his head. "I thought we could work together. For now. If you want…that is."

"Look, Aang—"

"I won't be any trouble," he says quickly. There are dark circles under his eyes and I wonder if he got any sleep last night. "I can even be a lookout from above. I don't eat much so you don't have to share your food. I'm an okay bender but I know how to live off next to nothing. Please." I can now see the desperation in his eyes and hear it through his voice. "I can be useful. I promise I won't let you down."

Part of me wants to scream at this kid. I don't need someone slowing me down. I know I should be suspicious of this type of behavior but I can read it on his face: he's scared. He wants someone to ally with. He doesn't want to be alone and he won't betray me. There's something honest in his face, something I recognize but I don't know from where.

"Promises mean nothing in these Games," I say. "How can I trust that you won't stab me in the back the moment I turn around?"

"You have my word," he says seriously. "I know that probably means nothing to you but I'm a monk, Katara. And when we make a vow we stick to it." His face, always so kind and happy, hardens in a look I've never seen. "The Capital can take away our homes, food, supplies and money, but they can't take away our beliefs and customs."

I stare at him, thinking about what Sokka or Pakku or even my dad might say. Sokka would be skeptical, clearly trying to figure out what motive this kid really had. Pakku would see Aang as a weakling, and would probably want me to kill him right here and now while he's vulnerable. My dad would tell me to trust my instincts. But me? I see devotion. I see trust and respect—respect for me, for whatever reason. But mostly, I see hope.

_Trust your instincts. _

"Okay," I say with a sigh. "We can stick together. For now at least. When I find my brother I can't promise he'll feel the same."

Relief washes over Aang's features. "Thank you, Katara. I won't slow you down or get in the way."

"Good because I'll just kill you if you do."

He laughs awkwardly and I smile a little, not sure if I'm kidding or not. After a moment I say, "So you're the last Airbender, huh?"

"Yeah," he says quietly. "I guess I am."

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><p><strong>AN: There you have it. The first day of the Games. As you can tell by the last line, I'm keeping some of the real facts of the show in this story-such as Aang being 'the last Airbender.' Though technically he's only the last in the Games. ;) Anyway, hope you liked it. I'll be keeping a list of the tributes who are still in the Games at the bottom of each authors note. Since this world is different than the show, I made a map in photoshop of the province layout and the tributes if you're interested. I've posted it on my main page. The areas marked with a red 'X' belong to the Capital and aren't populated.**

**The Tributes**

**Province 1 - Zuko and Azula**

**Province 2 - Chan and Mai**

**Province 3 - Akio(OUT) and On Ji**

**Province 4 - Longshot and Maya(OUT)**

**Province 5 - Jiro and Ty Lee**

**Province 6 - Jet and Song(OUT)**

**Province 7 - Haru and Smellerbee**

**Province 8 - Matsu and Toph**

**Province 9 - Sokka and Katara**

**Province 10 - Nato(OUT) and Ming(OUT)**

**Province 11 - Aang and Nori(OUT)**

**Province 12 - Dachi(OUT) and Suki**


	9. Ashes, Ashes

**A/N: Wow guys, thanks so much for your reviews! I'm going to respond to a few at the bottom of this chapter. Remember if you ever have a question, don't hesitate to ask! I will answer. =) Enjoy the chapter!**

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><p>"Day of wrath, that day of burning. Seer and Sibyl speak concerning. All the world to ashes turning." - <em>Abraham Coles<em>

**Chapter 9 - Ashes, Ashes**

I quickly discover that having Aang as an ally was one of the best decisions I've made so far. His age, marred with his cheerfulness and slight naive nature, has marked him as a non-asset from the other tributes. When I first saw him in the training room, I might have agreed to an extent. Now though, I couldn't disagree more. Not only is Aang able to hover in the air and take a lookout, he's also very resourceful. In no time at all we've made breakfast out of lychee nuts, some non poisonous berries, and crunchy critters we dug up from the earth. Okay the critter part is a little gross, but they're meaty and it'll provide us with protein and energy.

After we finish our meal, I pack up my satchel while Aang covers up our traces with a few spurts of Airbending. Looking pleased with himself, he turns to me with a ready and hopeful expression.

"So what's the plan now?"

"We find my brother," I say. It's really the only solid plan I have at the moment, and even at that it's still a little murky. "And kill anyone that gets in our way."

Aang's face falls. "Right."

I give him a sidelong glance as we take off in the opposite direction as Azula and her army. "This is really hard on you, isn't it? I mean, it's hard for me too but…" my voice trails off as I struggle to finish what I'm trying to say.

What am I trying to say?

"The monks taught us that all life is sacred," says Aang. "Province 11 still falls below the Capital, but our teachings remain the same." He holds out a hand, and as if on cue, a tiny butterfly with green glittering wings lands in it. "Even the tiniest of creatures, they share a place in our world."

"Right," I say lamely, and watch the butterfly take flight. Of course the Capital would see no use in taking away the beliefs of the monks. A gentle race of people, they're the least likely to stand up against the them. "What's it like? Your home?"

"It's not like this," Aang says, "all flat and spread out. The temple stretches out over three high mountains, connected by bridges. It's all stone and pillars with green tiled roofs. And open. Everything is really open." I look at him and he smiles wistfully, as though caught in a pleasant dream.

"Sounds beautiful," I say, trying to picture it in my mind. "If it's high in the air like that, why can't anyone fly away?"

Province 9 is trapped by their icy walls, and the Capital is trapped by an enormous gate of fire. But if Aang's home is in the air, how do you trap people who can fly?

"We're surrounded by airships." His face falls. "We have Guards in the temple and ones in the air."

"Oh," I say, turning away. "We're surrounded by water, too far away from land to leave." I don't need to say what happens if anyone _tries_ to leave, it's sort of an unnecessary comment that we both know the answer to.

"Don't you have snow where you live?" Aang asks, a bit more cheerfully.

"Yeah—it snows all year."

"I've never seen snow before but I've always wanted to." Aang sighs. "We've studied different climates and weather from around the world."

"It's not that great," I say. I pause, momentarily caught up in our conversation and remember we're still in the arena. I bring my voice down. "Although, it's quite fun to throw at people."

Aang laughs quietly. "Too bad I'll never get to see it."

The vast silence that follows is enough to paint the sky black. I have no reply for his statement, because disagreeing would only be foolish. So I say nothing and we continue up the valley, both lost in our own morbid thoughts.

It's some time later that I realize we have a problem: we need water. I've decided that I can trust Aang enough to show him my bending technique with the plants. It's sufficient to quench us for a little while, but the heat is wearing down on us. I can't pull enough out of the plants without making it obvious that it's what I'm doing, and I have nowhere to put it once I do.

"Maybe we should try the lake?" Aang suggests in a withered tone.

"No," I say immediately. "The fire tributes are most likely holding a camp there or somewhere close."

"How many are with them again?" Aang hides the disappointment on his face well, but I still see it.

"At least six," I say. "Not counting Prince Zuko."

"Why do you think he isn't with them?"

I shrug. "Maybe he thinks his chances are higher if he's alone."

"That doesn't make very much sense."

"He's from the Capital," I say. "None of them make sense." I can practically hear Pakku slamming his face into his palm. "Except June, my stylist," I add for her benefit. "I like her—and my other artists."

"Your stylist looks a little scary."

"She _is_ a little scary." I chuckle before pausing, peering through the trees. It's so silent it almost bothers me. "Water runs downhill," I say, thinking back to my lessons at home.

"But…we're sort of going uphill," Aang points out.

"I know." I grimace. "We'll need to find another source or some animals. They'll have to drink somewhere."

"What about —" Aang pauses, mid-sentence as a twig snaps in the distance.

I immediately pull out my knife and fall into a defensive position. Hearing the sound doesn't do much for my awareness though because out of nowhere, a huge rock is thrown at me. Aang and I both leap out of the way and the rock soars between us, crashing into a tree. I glance up and see Haru, arms out and ready for a fight.

I don't give him another chance to consider the next move. I use all my power to pull the water to my aid, draining the life of the plants around me. Haru's eyes are wide at my skill—I can tell he thought I was at a disadvantage—and I form two water whips in my hands. I strike out—he leaps out of the way.

Haru rights himself, gaining balance, and punches forward, launching pieces of earth my way. I slice a chunk with my whip and dive to avoid another, rolling out in a summersault. In an instant I'm back on my feet. Aang's here now, whirling a long stick around like a staff. Haru pulls up the ground below him, making a shield so the air travels past.

"Take that side!" I shout at Aang, and hurl around to the left. I grit my teeth, snapping the water against Haru's stone wall. It does little good, so I whip the water faster, striking over and over until it cuts into the stone. I take a quick breath—but it's all he needs. I don't even have time to brace myself: He drops his wall and punches out, hurling me backwards with a rock in my stomach. I slam into a tree, completely disorientated.

As I lay there, he must have forgotten me, or else turns his full attention on Aang, and I watch the two fight through foggy eyes. It's a very repetitive type of fight, I notice: Haru attacking, Aang defending. I want get up and help but my legs feel dispatched from my body. My mind is screaming for me to move, to do _something_, but my body just won't allow it. I feel so helpless. Right at this moment, I fully understand why hardly anyone wins from Province 9. It's nearly impossible without a weapon against another bender.

And yet, I do have a weapon, don't I? But it's a knife, and I'll need to get in close range to hit Haru with it. My throwing isn't quite as good as Mai's, but if Aang can keep Haru distracted, and I can just manage to get close enough, I may be able to land a blow.

With great difficulty I get to my feet, swaying a little in the process. I crawl across the roots to where my knife lies abandoned and snatch it off the ground. Aang doesn't see me, and I make sure to stay hidden as I creep toward the fight. I don't want to draw attention to myself from either of them.

Aang does a fair job deflecting Haru, but the green eyed Earthbender is strong and unyielding. As I watch him move, I can't help but marvel at how different Earthbending is from Waterbending. Where my movements are graceful and flowing, his are abrupt and hard. I hesitate in my staring, just as he uproots one of the smaller trees and with a loud snarl, launches it toward Aang. The Airbender is barely missed and soars high into the air. Haru looks up, eyes following Aang, and I see my opening. I jump out from the bushes, knife gripped in my hand—when Aang slams into the ground with his staff, causing a tornado of wind to knock me and Haru backwards.

My body hits the ground and I roll across broken bits of rock and roots. It makes for a slightly more comfortable landing than the tree, but the impact of the ground still dazes me. I blink several times, only to find Aang staring at me with large grey eyes filled with worry.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Where is he?" I demand, sitting up so quickly it makes my head pound. "Where'd he go?"

"I don't know," says Aang, frowning. "I think he ran off."

"I would have had him!" I get to my feet shakily and knock Aang's hands away, refusing his help. "I would have had him had you not done…whatever you just did."

"I'm sorry," Aang says guiltily. "I didn't know you were there."

I look at him, furious, and then my face softens. I have to remind myself, almost shamefully, that this kid probably saved my life. "It's okay," I manage to say. "Next time we'll communicate better." Aang perks at the words _next time_, probably worried I had planned on banishing him from my group for knocking me into a tree. Not that I had much of a group anyway, but still. Almost reluctantly I add, "You did well, too."

"Thanks," he says happily, and the pleasantness of his usual self returns. Mentally I note to never underestimate an Airbender.

I glance at the stick he's still holding. "Does that help?"

"Yeah, but it's not quite like my staff at home."

"Well I think it works pretty well." I straighten my tunic and move over to grab my fallen satchel that came off during the fray. "Better hang on to it."

"Where do you think your brother is?" Aang asks. "Do you think he'll have allied with anyone else?"

My first thought is no. But I know Sokka, and I know his ability to persuade people. "Maybe," I reply. "He showed some interest in Suki —" I pause, frowning. "But I saw her last night, I'm sure of it, and she was alone. So I don't know."

Aang is quiet for awhile. "At least we're not alone," he murmurs.

For the first time since I've come to the Capital, I find these words equally comforting and equally true. I don't know if Aang's talking about just us two, or the fact that somewhere out there, someone is looking out for us. All I know is that he's right. Inside the arena I have Sokka, and now I have Aang. Outside at the Capital I have Pakku, Hama and June. Back at home I have my dad. And somewhere in the heavens, I have my mom.

"You're right," I say to Aang. "We're not alone."

When we stop to make camp for the night, the sound of the national anthem rings off in the distance. Another day in the arena, and I'm still alive. I suppose I should feel pleased but a sort of emptiness takes its place instead. No cannons are fired, so that must mean no one died today. I feel an odd combination of relief and disappointment, not really sure which emotion dominates the other. Knowing Sokka is alive though is enough to keep up my spirits. I just hope he's faring a little better than we are.

"This ought to do it," I mumble, giving a final tug to the snare I just set up. I inspect it a second longer before rising from the ground. Might as well set up a few traps in case we find some animals. Aang doesn't eat meat, but I certainly do. The juices from the inside should help quench my thirst.

All day we walked and still no water. Even the plants seem dryer than usual, the humid air sucking up all the moisture. My usual soft skin feels cracked and scaly, my lips scorched. I'm not sure how much longer Aang and I can go before we're dehydrated. We had to stop sooner than we would have liked and make camp, but honestly the heat was almost unbearable. Dehydration was a common death in the arena, and it wasn't one I wanted to happen to me. The symptoms I knew well enough to recognize, and would need to keep an eye out for them: dry mouth, fatigue, dizziness, headaches, feverish skin. So far I was experiencing the dry mouth and slight fatigue—but that could be because we walked all day.

When I get back to camp, Aang is already high up in the tree. I climb up quickly, careful to keep my grip on the branches so I don't tumble down. When I reach Aang, I notice his body is facing away from me and unnaturally still. I give him a little shake.

"Are you asleep?" _What a stupid question_, I think.

"Not anymore." Aang smiles, not at all bothered by me interrupting his sleep.

I examine him under scrutiny eyes for signs of dehydration. Cracked lips, just like mine. I wonder if his skin is dry, too. "Do you feel okay?"

He yawns. "Just tired."

"Get some rest." I nestle into my bedroll, sliding the satchel at the bottom by my feet. "We'll find water tomorrow."

* * *

><p>But when tomorrow comes, we don't get such a liberty. The arena as I knew it has transformed to flame and smoke. Burning branches crack from the trees and fall like sheets of raining sparks.<p>

Aang doesn't need to be told what's going on. We're out of the tree and running in no time at all. Either the Firebenders have gotten really out of control or the Elites are manipulating the arena. It's not good for us either way.

"Follow the animals!" I shout, pulling up the front of my tunic to cover my nose from the smoke. I can't help but feel resentment that it takes a forest fire to find the animals. "Don't breathe the smoke!"

I start to feel the pain of dehydration and suffocation from the smoke wearing me down. It burns through my entire body, my vision blurring along the edges. I shake my head and push forward, determined that a forest fire won't be the end of me.

Aang stops, hunching over in a fit of coughs.

"We have to keep going!" I say to him, shoving him forward.

"Give me a second," he breathes.

"We don't have a second!"

He straightens at my voice, a look of pure determination in his grey eyes. He pulls out his stick and whirls the air in front of us, clearing the smoke and making a path.

"Maybe we do have a second," I say, and we set off again.

It doesn't take me long to figure out this fire is from the Elites, not the Firebenders. The Elites wouldn't let this kind of fire get so out of control unless they wanted it to. I also figure out they must be close because Aang has to repeat his motion and clear the air every few steps. No matter how strong the wind is, the smoke keeps coming back. He grows tired after about ten minutes, the smoke clogging his lungs. I grab hold of him and half drag him through the forest, my legs blindly leading us forward to an unknown location.

_Away from the fire_, I keep thinking. _Just get away from the fire_.

I trip and stumble over loose branches. I can hardly see at this point. Aang and I are barely moving, me pulling him awkwardly with one arm, the other still covering my face. I catch a glimpse of light, a sliver of gold through the smoke. Relief washes through me and I grit my teeth, hauling us forward —

And then I'm falling.

Someone screams, I think it was me, and I lose Aang's arm. It's as though the ground has come alive and I'm sucked under. Highly unlikely, so I must have fallen in some sort of hole. I barely hear Aang's shout when I slam into the ground, hard.

It takes me several minutes to come round, and when I sit up it feels like my bones are cracking. I groan, getting to my hands and knees. I bring a hand to my forehead. A warm sticky substance coats my fingers.

Great. A gash in the head is just what I need right now.

I blink several times, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. What happened? How did I end up down here? I look up, half wondering if I'm stuck at the bottom of a well and all I need to do is climb up to the hole.

But there's no well—not even a hole. All I can see is solid rock, and when I lower my gaze to look around, there's plenty more. If my eyes aren't playing tricks on me, it sort of looks like an underground cave. The temperature has dropped tremendously, and I can feel moisture on the rocks below me. Despite the circumstance, a wave of hope flashes in me. There must be water around here!

I get to my feet, swaying in the process. I dig around in my satchel, which thankfully has proven its straps are mighty sturdy, and find the minor healing ointment. I rip off a piece of fabric from my tunic, dabbing the ointment on it and wrap it around my head. I can't see the wound but I'll be able to examine it further when I find water, using it as a reflection. I readjust my satchel and straighten, accessing my surroundings once more. Even though it's dark, I've always been blessed with good senses. Back at home, I was the one that led Sokka and I on our hunts, relying on my sharp eyes and uncanny knack for catching even the tiniest of cracks in the distance.

So you can imagine my surprise when someone grabs me from behind, their arms already in position to snap my neck in half.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Review and answer time!**

**S- I kind of wonder if a Air nomad has ever won**? -Yes, there have been Air Nomad victors. They are gentle by nature, but their ability to defend makes it hard on the other tributes. They are essentially the hardest to catch, because many can fly. Province 9 remains the least number of victors because firstly, there's only 2 out of 24 and secondly, most don't think to use nature as water.

**janedoe401- where can we find the link to the map?** -I thought I could link it in a chapter, but I can't. I put it on my profile page. Any problems with it, let me know! =)

**LookMeInTheStars- Saw the harry potter premiere tonight...am i the only one who feels let down and missing something?** -Nope I'm with you! I liked it but I agree, they changed too much from the book. It's epic for a reason..they shouldn't have changed it! Especially the final battle between Voldemort and Harry.

**firestar77-2- Maybe Azula is looking for Katara to ally with?** -Perhaps, perhaps someone else. =) I can't say.

**Jezebel.- The only part I was confused on was why they only gave her a nine.** -Katara got a nine because I felt like that's what she earned. Katniss gets an eleven in THG, but she also hit the apple from the pigs mouth, which is an impressive shot. Katara simply blew up. :P

**Anonymous- Please let Mai or Aang be Rue. I don't care if Mai is older, she's quiet like Rue. Please?** -I get a lot of guesses on who will be Rue and who will be Thresh, and even Cato. I can say you'll see similarities between the Hunger Games characters and ALTA, but no one in this story represents someone from THG. Zuko is DEFINITELY not Peeta, haha. No lying in the mud and giving up on life for him. ;) But there is a death that will remind you of Rue, and I think it will surprise everyone.

**3- Hopefully you will keep Katara as badass as she's now and won't turn her into a weak "princess" who needs rescue.** -Lol no, Katara will not be a girl who needs rescued constantly. She'll have her moments of weakness but she'll have badass moments as well. ;)

**forever2yours- i was wondering how you were going to pull off the ending to this story?** -I already know the ending, actually. =) How it's going to work..I'm still planning that out. I'm trying NOT to have to do a sequel..but we'll see if I'm able to end this story the way I want.

**forever2yours- it's actually amazing how youre keeping Katara who she is and NOT betraying Katniss's character either.** -Thank you! I know I said none of these characters are based off THG characters, but you will see some similarities in Katniss and Katara. The Katara we saw in the show isn't the same one we see here, simply because she grew up differently in 'this' world than in the show.

Now for a tribute list update of the ones who are ALIVE:

**Province 1 - Azula and Zuko**

**Province 2 - Mai and Chan**

**Province 3 - On Ji**

**Province 4 - Longshot**

**Province 5 - Ty Lee and Jiro**

**Province 6 - Jet**

**Province 7 - Haru and Smellerbee**

**Province 8 - Toph and Matsu**

**Province 9 - Katara and Sokka**

**Province 11 - Aang**

**Province 12 - Suki**


	10. Breaking Point

**A/N: Thanks for waiting guys. =) This was quite a fun chapter to write. (Wow, we're on chapter 10 already. Jeeze)**

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><p>"Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul." - Kahil Gibran<p>

**Chapter 10 - Breaking Point**

"_What was my first lesson, Katara?"_

_I look down and stare at the deep gash in my forearm. Warm blood drips down my skin and paints the snow red. It stings; especially with the ointment my dad keeps putting on it, and the blood starts oozing. It's the type of wound most little girls squirm at seeing. But not me._

"_Don't hesitate," I answer, sighing in defeat. I think of the cute and cuddly polar bear dog, with its fluffy white hair and large, wide black eyes. It might be meaty and full of protein, but it was just too cute to stick with a spear._

_Sokka is standing off to the side of the campfire, watching my healing treatment with both concern and smugness. He doesn't think I can hunt; he says hunting is for warriors. For men, like him and dad._

"_Because why?" my dad asks. Always teaching, my dad is. He doesn't yell or scold when I mess up. He explains what I did wrong, why it was wrong, and how I can avoid it in the future._

"_Because he won't either," I say. I look back down at my arm, learning the lesson the hard way._

"_Think," my dad says. "But never hesitate once you've thought—once you know what to do."_

_Think, _I tell myself_, _remembering my dad's lesson, _but don't hesitate._

In a second I can tell whoever is behind me is big, and probably stronger than me. Rather than try to wrestle them off—because I know when it comes to a battle of strength I'll lose—I tuck my arm and elbow them in the stomach, hard. The groan I'm pleased to hear sounds male, but I've already subconsciously figured that out. The blow is enough of a distraction for me to wiggle loose, and I take off at a run. Although I hit him pretty hard, he's quick to recover. I know my size doesn't have to be a disadvantage if I don't allow it. I rely on my senses to judge my predator's distance behind me. Just as I feel him about to grab me again, I duck, and in a swift motion, launch him over my back and let his own momentum carry him forward.

He lands gracefully, and virtually silently, on his feet.

I breathe hard, thinking. Calculating.

Clearly, I'm dealing with some sort of silent predator. He hasn't used bending, but that doesn't necessarily mean he can't bend. My mind whirls as his silhouette turns to face me. We eye each other warily, and I can tell he's calculating his next move, each of us no more than a shadow to the other. I wish I could see his face clearly, see who I'm up against. Jet, maybe?

"Perhaps I've underestimated you."

_Not Jet_, I think. The tone, the deepness, and the raspy quality I recognize immediately. Putting a face to this shadow somehow makes it all worse, despite that I had been thinking just the opposite only moments ago. I can't let him see that though, the panic that's rising within me.

"Perhaps you have," I say, taking a side step and drawing out my knife. He mirrors my step, his movements as graceful as I've ever seen. And silent. Deadly silent. "But you wouldn't be the first. Nor will you be the last."

"You seem confident that you'll live to see the light again." His voice is deceptively calm but I still catch the minor amusement. I don't drop my guard for a second, ready to spring into a fight at a moment's notice.

"It's not confidence," I say, sounding bolder than I feel. "It's a fact."

Slivers of light filter through cracks from the ground above and as he shifts slightly, I'm able to catch the glimmer of gold in his eyes. He keeps himself hidden in the shadows though, so I don't know if he has some type of weapon—sword, mace, bow, some other type of Capital weapon I don't even know about. All I can see of him are his eyes; those deep, menacing eyes that unnerve me and I don't even know why.

I suddenly don't want to look at him anymore but my instincts tell me it would be stupid to look away for too long. My eyes are adjusting to the darkness and I allow myself a quick glance around the cave, which reveals the only way out is past him—a wall trapping me from behind. I take another side step, not liking my back against a wall. Again, he mirrors my action. I think I'm hidden from the light but he doesn't miss a move I make.

"There's only one way out," he says, as though reading my thoughts.

Common sense tells me to kill him right now—to fling my knife and hope it sinks into his chest. He's close enough now that I'm sure I can hit him. "Then I suppose you better get out of my way, then," I say.

Zuko remains still; so do I. It's only a matter of seconds before a fight breaks loose. I can't help but wonder if there are Elites down here, recording this exchange. If that's the case, I'm sure we're live front and center across the world right now. Everyone will want to watch the Fire Prince and the lone Waterbender trapped in the cave, ready to rip out each other's throats. I keep myself tense, braced for whatever happens next. He must be calculating whether or not he should make the first move.

_Don't hesitate._

I leap forward and swing my knife in a slashing motion. I catch him off guard; he evades the deadly blow due to his quick reactions, but I still manage to graze his cheek. He staggers back, and the light catches his face. Astonishment is there, and so is disbelief. A small cut is already visible on his right cheek, blood beginning to trickle down. I press my element of surprise and swing out again.

But this time he's ready for it. He grabs my wrists tightly with both hands and swings me around, crashing my back into the rocky wall. I let out a noise of surprise, and slight pain, my hand still gripping my knife. Zuko pulls my wrists forward and then slams them into the wall, higher over my head. Over and over, until the beating causes me to drop the knife. He kicks it away with a boot and it's lost in the darkness.

I struggle in his grasp. He's strong, much stronger than me, like I originally anticipated. My arms are no good in this situation. Thinking fast, I lift my knee and bring it crashing into his stomach. He staggers back, but doesn't let go of my wrists.

"I'm not going to kill you," he grits out.

Despite the irony of the situation, like how he's almost breaking my wrists, I can't help but laugh sardonically. "Right, because I'm sure you'd rather sacrifice your life so I can live."

"Don't flatter yourself." He releases my wrists and steps back. "There's only one way out of here and I need you to get out."

"I'm not helping you get out of here!" I couldn't believe it. The nerve of this prince! No wonder he hadn't tried to kill me, not when he wanted to use me for his own escape. "I'd rather die, knowing you're dying as well."

Zuko's gold eyes darken with silent rage as he raises his hand and lights a ball of fire. "That can be arranged."

I briefly wonder why he hasn't used Firebending against me yet. My wellness is certainly not the reason. There must be something else. Maybe he wanted to kill me silently without bringing attention to himself? That doesn't seem too entirely out of his style. But…he wasn't trying to kill me, was he?

"Why don't you Firebend your way out?" I settle on asking, eyeing the fire in his palm.

"We're too far below the ground for it to make a difference," he says. The fire catches the harshness of his scar and I force myself not to flinch at it. "And even if I could, the walls would crash down and bury me alive. Not to mention that'd draw a bit of attention."

The silent shadow, I think. "How did you even get down here?"

"How did you?"

"I fell," I say, frowning at the thought of Aang. Scared, probably all alone, Aang. My alliance. My friend. "During the fire, I must have slipped in a hole or something." I narrow my eyes at him. "What about you?"

"I fell."

I can't tell if he's mocking me or telling the truth. Either way, it doesn't really matter. "That's your problem," I say without looking at him. My eyes search the dark, looking for another option.

"_My_ problem is _your_ problem, peasant." Zuko moves closer and I take an involuntary step back. He backs me into a wall and the rock digs into my back. "Either you help me, or I kill you right now. I don't even have to use Firebending. I'll make it slow, painful, and you're throat will burn raw from begging me to stop."

I swallow hard, weighing my options. This is the Fire Lord's son. Violence and ruthlessness is in his blood. I know he isn't bluffing. He will kill me if I refuse to help him. Actually, he'll probably try to kill me after I help him as well. If I was back at the White House, this would be the part of the conversation when we'd strike a deal. Barter the goods, see who has the upper hand.

But this is a game. And if I want to survive, I'm going to have to play by the rules.

Ignoring my inner turmoil and debate, Zuko presses on, his voice nearly in my ear,

"Try to understand," he rasps. "I don't want to kill you or anyone else in this game, but I will. I have to win in order to restore something I lost." I glance up at him, feeling his warm breath tickle my ear. "My honor."

"Your honor?" I repeat, blinking. "How can you lose your _honor_? That doesn't sound like a very good reason to win."

"Everyone has their own reason," Zuko says, glaring down at me and pressing himself closer. "What's yours?"

"I don't," I whisper. "If I win, Sokka will be dead. I don't want to win, and I don't want to die. Sort of a bad position to be in."

He stares at me, as though trying to read me, his face expressionless and giving away nothing, but his body has gone very still. After a moment he pulls back, the flame with him. "I'm losing my patience with you, peasant. Help me or die, it's your choice."

"If I help you…you're just going to leave me behind or kill me anyway," I say quietly.

"Then your decision should be easy."

"Fine." I breathe deeply and crane my neck back to meet his eyes. "Once the world sees me help you, and then you killing me, they'll see how _honorable_ you really are, _Prince_ Zuko."

I push past him, half expecting an attack from behind. I reach the mouth of the cave before Zuko catches up to me. I step back and wordlessly let him lead, letting his fire guide our path.

"It's like an underground tunnel," I murmur after awhile, voicing my thoughts out loud. We have been walking in silence for about ten minutes, nothing eventful happening so far. "Do you think the Elites built it?"

"Hard to say," Zuko replies. "And it doesn't really matter."

I glance at him from the corner of my eye, a thousand questions suddenly bubbling up inside me. It wasn't every day someone from Province 9, or anyone in general I'd venture to guess, met the prince of the world. What was it like being a prince? Is his father as horrible at home as he is to the rest of the world? Where is his mother? How did he get that scar? The cut I gave him with my knife rips at me painfully, and I feel a little guilty for cutting his face. I wish he'd wipe away the blood at least...

"You're staring at me."

I made an uncharacteristic sort of squeak, my cheeks burning. "Sorry."

"I'm used to it." His voice hardens like ice. "The scar makes people stare."

"I wasn't staring because of your scar," I say honestly, and he glances at me with surprise. "I was staring because I've never met a prince before."

"Are you disappointed?"

I stare at him for a moment. "I haven't decided yet."

We reach an open area about an hour later, a sort of circular space inside the cave. Light escapes the cracks above, and I can see a small opening that I might be able to squeeze through if I was taller. Or if I had something to climb to reach it. A ladder would be nice.

"I'm going to boost you up, and then you're going to pull me up," Zuko says to me, following my gaze.

I turn and stare at him, eyes wide. "And you believe that? You think I'll pull you up once I'm on flat ground and not leave you down here?" That had to be the biggest gamble I've seen in the Games so far.

"Yeah, I do," he says, extinguishing the fire in his palm.

"What makes you so confident?"

"It's not confidence, it's a fact," he throws back at me. "Besides, I'm a good judge of character. I know the type of person you are."

"Really?" I cross my arms and glare at him. "What _type_ of person do you presume I am, then?"

"You're driven by your emotions," Zuko says to me. "And emotions can be as deadly as fire. Knowing your enemies breaking point is key in any fight. For example…" He reaches behind his neck and withdraws a sleek, shiny sword, the blade so thin it's barely visible. He points it and stares at me down the polished edge. I nearly scream out in rage—how did I not notice he had a sword?

"You would clearly do anything for your brother," he goes on. "Volunteering to enter this game is proof of that. You've shown interest in the blind girl and the young Airbender, simply because you pity them. You let your emotions get in the way, and you let it get personal. And because of that, killing will have to be personal too. If your brother's life is on the line, I have no doubt that you'll kill to save him. But out of cold blood?" He lowers the blade. "You don't have it in you. Personal loyalty—that's your breaking point."

I stare at him, not sure what to feel about what he just said. "What does me killing have to do with leaving you behind?" I challenge.

"Same basic principle," he replies. "Leaving me behind—someone who isn't threatening you or harming you—will go against your conscious. It's the same thing as killing in cold blood."

Technically, he is threatening me, I think. "You don't know anything about me," I snarl at him. "You don't know if I'll pull you up or leave you down here to die."

Zuko's golden eyes glimmer, his expression unreadable. "It's a chance I'm willing to take."

"Well you must be desperate." I turn around and face the opening in the ceiling. "Now bo—"

My words are cut off when something large bursts through the cavernous wall, knocking me to the ground by the sheer impact. I cover my head and pull my legs to my chest, debris, rocks and roots clashing down on me. I'm almost positive the ceiling is caving in and is going to crush me to death, when I'm pulled abruptly to my feet.

Zuko lets go of me just as I turn and face a monstrous beast. Standing on all fours is creature with thick brown fur, black and white stripes running down its back. A massive tail wraps around its body and long, thick claws dig into the earth. Two glassy brown orbs staring at me through slitted eyes.

"Badgermole," Zuko murmurs. "They're blind for the most part but they use their Earthbending to feel their way around."

I whip around to face him with wide, worried eyes. "They can _Earthbend_?"

Just as the words leave my mouth, the badgermole slams a paw down, earth rooting from the ground and crashing me backwards. I slam into the wall, and it knocks the breath out of me. A flash of silver catches my eye, and I realize its Zuko's sword cutting through the darkness. He moves so fast I can barely catch it—but he has _two_ swords now. Did he always have two?

I manage to get to my feet, stumbling over bits of fallen rock. Light spills over the ground and I glance up. The ceiling has caved in a bit more, a larger opening revealing an escape. If only I could climb up there…

Zuko cry of alarm snaps me in his direction. The badgermole shoves a paw forward, enclosing Zuko in a coffin of rock. The swords drop from his grasp and clatter to the ground. I stand stalk still, hoping the badgermole will forget I'm here. It can't see, Zuko had said, and he's still struggling to get free and holding the badgermole's attention.

As though my thoughts give away my location, the beast turns to me. I throw myself over a large pile of rocks and nearly miss an array of soaring rocks. The badermole moves its paws across the ground and shoves a wall of rock at me. I leap to the side and somersault across the ground, sharp rocks digging into my back painfully. Silver catches my eye again and I roll toward Zuko and snatch up his swords, turning on the badgermole.

The swords are feather light, thin sharp blades that seem to be two pieces of a whole. The badgermole whirls several small rocks at me and I slice them easily with the blades. One of the rocks ricochets off the blade and hits the beast in the eye. It howls out in pain and falls back.

Before I can properly think about what I'm doing, I don't hesitate to turn back to Zuko and begin chipping away the rock case binding him. It's thick, and the swords are barely doing any destruction. I wonder if I'm actually doing the blades more damage than the rock. I can feel sweat dripping down my back and taste salt in my mouth. Something must be bleeding—my tongue or my lip—but I can't worry about that now. I flip the swords and begin pounding the rock with the hilts.

"What are you doing?" Zuko shouts, and I can't tell if he's angry or shocked or what he's feeling by my insistent hacking.

"I don't know!" I yell back, angry , frustrated with the stupid rock. "Damn conscious!"

"Watch out!"

I flatten myself to the ground just as the badgermole whirls around with its heavy tail. It misses me but knocks into Zuko, shattering the rock enclosure. I cover my head with my hands, dropping the swords, as bits of rock clatter on top of me. I wait a second after the initial blow before getting to my feet shakily, a horrible throb aching in my left shoulder.

The badgermole digs its paws into the ground, shifting its position, as if trying to figure out the best angle to attack. It raises a paw—and then howls in pain, fire lighting up below its feet. I turn and see Zuko, arms out and wielding the fire to his command. We're in such a tight enclosure that the smoke from the fire makes me cough, and I can understand now why he hadn't used it earlier. There just isn't enough space.

Zuko pushes a hand forward and creates a wall of fire, separating us from the badgermole. The beast makes noises of protest and anger, and I can see its large figure moving back and forth, as though trying to figure out a way to go through the fire.

I don't get it such liberty. I swipe down and snatch Zuko's swords and sprint toward the opening in the ceiling. Enough rocks have piled up that I think I might be able to climb out. Zuko holds the fire, inching toward the opening as I launch the swords through the hole and out of sight, climbing up after.

I stumble on the rocks, my heart pounding loudly in my ears and my lungs clogging with smoke. I'm coughing, my vision is blurry, and my hands are bleeding from the jagged rocks. The light is so close, if only I could just stay calm and get up there!

Zuko barrels past me, not shoving me out of the way, but moving much quicker. He reaches the top in seconds, and I hear the loud snarls of the badgermole behind me. No more fire to hold it back. Panicking, I try to move faster, but my foot slips. I scream, losing my grip and start to fall backward—

Something snags my wrist. I whip my head up, too shocked to breathe, and meet Zuko's golden eyes. His expression mirrors mine—shocked by his own action. He groans and hauls me up with all his strength, my body dragging on the rocks. The badgermole manages to clip my ankle with its claw but Zuko's hold is strong enough that I don't tumble back down. The momentum of his strength yanks my body up and out, causing me to land flat across him.

Bodies flushed together, we breathe heavily, the adrenaline still pumping in my veins. My mouth burns of rust and salt and sweat drips down the side of my face. I raise my head from the crook of Zuko's neck and stare at him, still breathing hard. His pale face is smudged with dirt and earth, a cut just above his right eye dripping blood down his face. It seems to merge with the cut I gave him with my knife, like two rivers converging into one.

_Burned and bloody and scarred, this is the face of a prince_, I think, the idea shocking me more than it should. Again I feel a stab of something painful at cutting his face. I start to reach out to wipe the blood away, to undo what I did, but I hesitate.

I roll off him before I do something weird and stupid. I land on my back and stare up at the sky. The beautiful, crystal blue sky that I just now realize I missed so much. I close my eyes, exhausted, and listen to the dying sounds of the enraged badgermole, having lost its food. I try control my breathing, relieved I made it out alive, but not at all ready to deal with the threat that lies right next to me.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading! Zuko and his honor? Wouldn't be Zuko without talking about honor, haha. As far as canon-likeness, Zuko was never banished but did receive his scar at 13..more or less the same reasons. Backstory will come later. Now, there are no new deaths since the last chapter, so instead of reposting the list, I'm going to respond to a few reviews. ;) Thanks to everyone who has left them so far!**

**Justice333: "You are planning to keep sokka alive right? I'm just curious as to how this will work out."** - Now I can't answer that, but I will say I've warned everyone that there will be MANY character deaths. That's the nature of this story. And while this is a Zutara, that doesn't mean Zuko and Katara will be the last two either. :P

**Random Reader: "One problem I see with Katara is one there is in Katniss as well. She sees Haru and goes into insta-kill mode. No hesitation?."** - I chuckled when I read this because I thought, "just wait till the next chapter." lol Katara learned from a young age not to hesitate, at least not when she's threatened. And it's just like the lesson with her dad: "don't hesitate, because he won't either." These games sort of change the characters as well, even though Katara (for example) doesn't want them to change her. But I think it'd be impossible for the games NOT to change her in some way. You have to become something different to survive.

**Random Reader: "Maybe like in the show, Mai will turn on Azula to protect Zuko if needed?"** - This is a good theory if Mai and Zuko had anything to go on prior to the Games, but they don't. Mai comes from Province 2, and has never met (personally) Azula or Zuko before the Games. So she doesn't have that personal thing going on.

**Carter Lee Grace: "It's great how you don't just insert Katara into Katniss' position."** - Thank you, I appreciate that. Katara and Katniss DO have similarities, just like many characters from crossing fandoms. I wanted to keep Katara like we saw in the show, but altered based on the AU world she's grown up in. And some of those alterations do bear a resemblance to Katniss because both grew up in a sort of..confinement.


	11. White Jade

**A/N: I should warn you all now that since the Games are into play, updates will be on the slower side. This is when the story gets tricky. :P So thank you for your patience. Enjoy the chapter!**

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><p>"Never underestimate a man's ability to underestimate a woman." - <em>Kathleen Turner<em>

**Chapter 11 - White Jade**

When I open my eyes, Zuko is gone.

For some reason this amuses me. Maybe I'm so drained and exhausted that I'm going hysterical. Was madness and giddiness a sign of dehydration or starvation? Perhaps. I should probably be angry, or annoyed, but just thinking about Zuko disappearing under my nose makes me crack a grin. He really is a silent shadow. I pride myself in my abilities to access every situation, to catch everything going on around me, and yet this prince has pulled one over me. More than once. I need to give him more credit.

I get to my feet with some effort, and readjust my satchel. I do a quick scan of the contents to see if Zuko took anything. The only thing missing is my knife, and I immediately start searching my surroundings, before remembering Zuko kicked it away in the cave below. Damn. Oh well, at least he didn't take any of my food or supplies. Makes me wonder what _he'_s surviving on.

My new purpose and goal is to find water. Not only because I need it to survive, but because I need it as a weapon. Pakku really wasn't lying when he said Waterbenders had a disadvantage. Hama overestimated me. It takes a lot of energy to pull water from the plants and I'm running low on it at the moment. The adrenaline I felt against the badgermole is fading away, and the dryness and fatigue is settling back in.

"A little help would be nice," I say, glancing up at the sky, hoping Pakku and Hama know I'm talking to them. Their job was to get me sponsors. Where are they now? Shouldn't someone be sending me _something_?

"You know, they say the first step to madness is talking to the voices in your head." I whirl around at the new voice and Jet steps out of the shadows, brandishing two hook swords. He's dressed in mismatched clothes of blue and orange. "But that's not quite right, is it? I've always thought madness is when the voices talk _back_ to you."

"You'd know all about madness, wouldn't you, Jet?"

His lips twitch into something of a smirk and grin, a blade of wheat grass caught between his teeth. "You're remarkably confident for someone with no weapon and no advantage. I admire that about you, Katara."

"Thanks," I reply dryly. I gather my strength from within, prepared to pull out as much water as possible from around me. "I'm glad I meet you approval. My life is now complete."

Jet laughs softly and lowers his hook swords upon seeing my fighting posture. "I'm not here to hurt you. I don't want to be the one to kill you at all, Katara. I'm here because I found your brother and want to take you to him."

My heart skips a beat. I stare at him, trying to decipher any ounce of a lie. His brown eyes look sincere, and his body language doesn't express an attack. Still, I don't trust him completely. Back at the Training Center, one of the stations had been about various floras throughout the provinces. The white jade was a plant that produces beautiful, solitary red-and-white blossoms at the end of long vines. Alluring in its beauty it might be, but it's poisonous and deadly. Best not to get too close to white jades. And Jet, for the matter, which reminds me quite a bit of those beautiful, deadly plants.

For some reason, Jet makes me more cautious than Zuko had. I don't know what it is, but I suppose it's just gut instinct. There was something very honest about Zuko, something that made me trust his words, even when he was threatening me. I can take the truth, as harsh as it might be. If someone is going to kill me, I want them to look me in the eye and tell me, not trick me. Jet might be one of those types...the types that lure you into their trapped web.

I don't trust him.

"Then why didn't he come get me himself?" I ask. Sokka told me he'd come for me. I remember that part of the plan clearly. Jet does't even strike me as the type of person Sokka would ally with. But maybe I'm wrong. I need proof, though, before doing anything rash and stupid. "I'm sorry but you'll understand if I'm not naive enough to believe you on words alone."

Jet frowns and looks, dare I think it, disappointed. "No, I understand. Sokka said you have trust issues." _Trust issues_? "He wanted to get you but he's hurt. We've made an alliance with several other tributes who are watching after him for now. He aid you could heal him with your _magic water_. I've been looking for you for hours."

Now I know he's telling the truth. Only Sokka calls Waterbending "magic water." And if he's hurt…why am I wasting time arguing with Jet when I can be helping my brother? I know there's still a small chance this is a trap, but now I have to take the risk. Zuko is right. Personal loyalty is my breaking point.

"Let's go," I say firmly, shaking off all thoughts of Zuko. "Is he alright? What happened?"

Jet sheaths his swords and we take off through the forest. "We were ambushed by the _princess's army of followers_. They seemed to be looking for someone, but wouldn't say who. No one in our group, obviously, because then they attacked us. No one died, but Sokka and Smellerbee got hurt. I think I did some damage to the girl from Two, though. Serves them right—everyone from the Fire Provinces deserves to die."

The vengeance in his voice startles me. I know killing is the object of this game but Jet's hatred of the Fire Provinces runs deep. Deeper than I had realized. It strikes a bunch of questions in my head and I struggle to keep them at bay. I don't like the Fire Provinces either. I resent any province that has things Province 9 don't—but did I wish them all dead? No. There are still innocent people in those provinces. People like June.

We walk for a good hour, mostly in silence. I thought I felt eyes on me a couple times but every time I checked I found nothing. I guess the Games have that effect on you: this constant feeling of being watched. Which technically, we _are_ being watched by the Elites. The whole world is watching.

"So who all is with you?" I finally ask Jet, eager to end the vast silence.

"Sokka, obviously," says Jet. "Smellerbee, that kid from Four, and the Airbender."

"Aang?" My eyes light up, relief swelling in me. "How is he? Is he alright?"

Jet shakes his head and gives me a baffled look. "I don't get you at all. You should be hoping people are _dying_, not making sure they're alright."

"Individually, we have no choice but to ally or the Fire Provinces will kill us all," I say reasonably. "My chances of survival are higher with more on my side."

"And for a moment I thought you cared for my well being," Jet jokes.

"I only care about—Sokka!" I catch a glimpse of arctic blue through a sliver of trees. Forgetting about Jet, forgetting about the Games and the other tributes, I sprint the last hundred feet toward my brother. His back is facing me and I catch him by surprise when he turns. I fling myself at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his body. The relief I feel is so overwhelming I have to fight down tears.

Sokka holds me intently, but his body is stiff, like I'm hurting him—

"Oh!" I pull back, and that's when I notice a dark stain beneath his clothing, on his right thigh. "I'm so sorry, I forgot. Jet told me you were hurt. Let me help you—why are you standing up? You should be resting!"

"Geesh, you _do_ sound like a mother."

I spun at the voice. Smellerbee sat against one of the trees, glaring at me. Her mop of messy dark hair fell into her eyes, and had I not known she was a girl, I might have mistaken her for a boy. She is small and lean with hardly any figure, but the fierceness in her eyes still alarms me.

"So, what do you guys have?" I ask, eyeing the campsite instead of looking into those intense dark eyes. "Any water?"

"None for you," says Smellerbee.

"Stop," Jet orders, who had been watching our interaction from a distance. He pushes himself off a tree and snatches a canteen from the ground before tossing it to me. "We have plenty of water but we're a bit tight on food. Some animals ate some while we were sleeping."

I don't hesitate to drink the cool liquid, coating my raw throat. I force myself not to chug it because it'll only make me sick but it's still hard to stop drinking.

"Thank you," I say to Jet, starting to feel a little bad I had doubted him. But not bad enough to trust him entirely.

"No problem."

"Where's Aang?" I say, springing to my feet. Sokka throws me a worried look at my abrupt change in attitude. My voice comes out harsh when I face Jet. "You said he was with you guys. Where is he?"

"I'm here." Aang seems to drop from the air before me and smiles. "I was looking out from above."

Another wave of relief washes over me. I reach out to hug him and stop, biting my lip. That would be way too personal for Pakku to handle watching. "I was worried about you. What happened?"

"I don't know—everything was such a blur." Aang frowns. "I couldn't find you after you disappeared and then I ran into that huge guy from Eight. What happened to you?"

"I fell," I say lamely. That's the best explanation I have. I open my mouth, prepared to tell everyone about my adventure with the prince, but stop myself. For some reason that I can't explain, I feel like I should keep it quiet. "But I got out so it's okay."

"Okay, I thought the point of finding this Waterbender was to heal me and Sokka," says Smellerbee, annoyed. "Can you get on it already?"

After an hour of trying to use water to heal, but to no prevail, I resort to use my healing medicine that I have in my satchel. I don't really want to use it on Smellerbee at all, but it seems rude considering she and Jet are sharing their supplies with me. Longshot brings back an armadillo-lion and honestly, that impresses me more than just about anything I have seen so far in the Games. The beast is huge, with shaggy golden hair and long claws, a thick shield-like back. I have no idea how Longshot could take down such a thing with only a few arrows. That concerns me.

Still, as our group feasted off the beast's meat and an array of berries Aang had found, I had to admit it was a nice change. The fact that no flags are dropped seems to be ignored. We sat around a roaring fire—Sokka was always good at starting them—and ate with cheerful chatter. Had this situation been any different, it would have almost been like spending time with friends. Except I have to remind myself these people aren't my friends. These are people that will ultimately slit my throat the second that calls for it. Well, not Sokka and probably not Aang either. I don't want to ally with this many people, because I have a problem trusting them even for a little while but I don't see any other choice. But I trust my brother, and he must have a plan of some sort brewing in his mind.

Sokka offers to take the first watch while everyone sleeps and it isn't until then does he share that plan with me.

"I don't want to stick around with these guys for long," Sokka whispers. Our bed rolls face each other and we're both lying on our stomachs. "I didn't manage to get much more than a loaf of bread at the start of the Games but Jet got quite a bit. I followed him until he gathered a few followers."

"How did he convince Smellerbee and Longshot to join?" My nickname amused the group, and when I asked Longshot his real name, he actually spoke and said he preferred my nickname. So that's what everyone called him now. "And what about Aang?"

Sokka thought over his words carefully. "Jet is very…persuasive. He convinced them their chances of survival were greater with him on their side. And he's got a vendetta against the Capital. So do Smellerbee and Longshot for whatever reason. It's all personal for them so they banded together."

"And Aang?"

"We found Aang today, hours before you came along. He saw me and said he had been with you, so Jet went out to find you since I couldn't."

"I have to tell you something." I didn't plan on telling the group but figured I should tell Sokka. He'd be able to decipher the situation better than I could. "About when I got lost from Aang."

"What is it?" Sokka's face transforms immediately into serious-mode. He looked very much like our dad that it almost hurts me to look at him.

"I wasn't along down there." My voice drops even lower. "Prince Zuko was there too. I don't know how he got down there—he says he fell, too," I add, answering the question I know he's about to ask. "But it was like an underground cave. Badgermoles live down there. Did you know they can Earthbend? Anyway, we worked together and were able to escape. I—" I hesitate, hating myself for admitting such a thing, "—I probably wouldn't have made it out of there without his help."

Sokka takes a moment to let everything sink in. "Where is he now?"

"I don't know," I answer. "He was gone when I came around. But he's not with Azula, and I got the impression from her that it's going to stay that way."

"When did you see her?" Sokka asks, alarmed.

"I just overheard her," I reassure him quickly, "when I was hiding out in the trees."

"Well, if Zuko's working alone than it's good for us."

I say nothing, not really sure of that. Sokka hasn't seen the way Zuko moves. The way he Firebends. Even alone, he's still a threat. Working alone might actually be smart. He only has to rely on himself and he won't drag attention to himself if he's not in a large group. It's much harder to find one person in this arena than a group of six like ours. But in a fight, we probably have a better chance because of our numbers.

My head starts to hurt from all this scheming and thinking. These Games not only tire you physically but emotionally and mentally. Every move has to be calculated. One wrong decision, one wrong move, one wrong choice might very well be your last.

_Make every second count_, my dad would say to me. Every lesson he taught me was based on that phrase. Every lunge. Every swing of my blade. Every step. Every breath. Make it count. That's what I have to do here.

"Why do you think he let you go?" Sokka asks quietly after a long stretch of silence. I'm nearly asleep but still catch his words.

"I don't know," I say sleepily, "but I don't think he will next time."

I wake up to the sound of a cannon and a piercing scream. Without even coming to my senses properly, I leap to my feet and summon the water from a canteen I had placed next to my bed roll, falling into a fighting stance. Someone is still screaming and that's when I notice its Smellerbee, covered in blood and making a sound I would have never thought she could make. It's a sort of horrified, broken scream of surprise, like she had woken from a nightmare and didn't realize it wasn't real. I follow her hysterical gaze and nearly gag. Longshot is flat on his back in a pool of blood, one of his arrows sticking out of his throat.

Everyone else is now on their feet and panicking. Jet gets Smellerbee away from Longshot and is shouting something at the rest of us. I tune him out, searching the area for an attack. I catch a sliver of black darting through the trees, moving like midnight smoke. There's something familiar about the movement but I can't put my finger on it.

"There," Sokka whispers, following my line of vision.

"Sokka—wait!"

But I'm too late. He pulls out a sword from his bedroll and takes off after the dark figure. The healing medicine I used on his leg hasn't mended him completely, but his limp is barely noticeable. I don't know who he's going after but I know I can't let him go alone. I take off after him. My eyes take a few minutes to adjust to the darkness and suddenly I wish I was a Firebender. At least I'd be able to see! The trees hang dark shadows over the ground, blinding me in darkness. It takes me at least ten minutes searching through the maze of darkness and trees before I find them.

I burst through a clearing just in time to see Sokka tackle the dark figure to the ground. I stare at their tangled limbs, a bit frozen, until Sokka cries out in pain. I rush forward to pull him up when I'm backhanded across the face. I fall back and bite back a scream, completely disoriented. Where did that come from?

"It—was—you," Sokka chokes out, getting to his feet. "I knew animals didn't take our food. You did and you killed Longshot!"

"You sound surprised." The voice is feminine, sing-song like and deadly cold. Another white jade. Beautiful and poisonous. "Is it because I'm a _girl _or because both happened under your nose?"

"You're out numbered," I say, stepping into the conflict. "The others will be here in a few minutes."

"Fine with me," says Suki. To my surprise, she pulls out two sleek golden fans, sharp as glass. "I planned on killing you all off one by one but this will save me time."

I grit my teeth, my cheek still stinging, and step forward but Sokka holds out an arm.

"No," he says to me quietly, "this is my fight. You have to let me do this, Katara. On my watch, she stole our food and killed Longshot. She's mine."

I honestly can't believe we're arguing over honor and pride in a situation like this. Only a guy, I decide, would rather fight for their morals than take the logical route, and use numbers to press their advantage. Suki has played her cards well, goading Sokka into fighting her one on one by challenging his dignity. I open my mouth, ready to protest, but the look on Sokka's face silences me.

"Fine," I say at last. I decide to humor him for the time being, prepared to jump into the fight if it got too serious. I'm pretty sure Suki is working alone, like Zuko, so I don't expect any company or foul play. This is definitely a battle of pride.

Suki makes the first move. With impressive speed, she kicks off the tree and springs at Sokka. He jumps out of the way, gathers himself, and holds out his sword. Suki grips a fan and launches it forward, the sound whistling in the air. The fan clips Sokka in the air and he falls to the ground, dropping his sword. Suki presses her advantage and kicks him in the stomach twice. Hard. I flinch, water encircling around my wrists tightly, ready for disposal.

"Get up," Suki hisses, leaning low in Sokka's ear. "I don't want to kill someone who is too cowardly to fight me. _A girl_."

Sokka surprises me—and Suki, apparently—because with incredible speed, he grabs her by the wrists and pins her to the ground, quickly straddling her with his weight. Sword forgotten, his hands find her throat, and Suki tries to claw him off her, but he's stronger than she is. I want to look away, because I'm not sure I can handle watching my brother choke someone to death, but Suki swings her long legs up over Sokka, and somehow wrestles her way free. They're both back on their feet, Suki clutching her throat and catching her breath.

"That's more like it," she says after a moment. "Might as well give them a show." She gestures toward the surrounding wood, where Elites are probably recording this encounter intently. Without hesitation, she swings a fist forward and nails Sokka in the shoulder. She tries to land another hit but Sokka ducks, spins and gets a good enough grip on Suki to run her at a tree.

My jaw drops when Suki _runs up_ the tree and kicks off, flipping backward over Sokka and breaking his grip. She lands in a crouch and glances up at him, gleaming in delight.

"Is that all you've got?" she taunts.

Sokka reaches for his sword and lunges at her, but she quickly deflects his blow with her fans (when did she grab the one she had thrown earlier?), pushing him backwards with incredible strength. He takes a second to balance himself, and that's all she needs. She kicks him in the chest, sending him backwards into a tree. At this point I'm pretty sure I have to step in, though in an odd way I've been watching in a sort of trance, fascinated by Suki's fighting. I've never seen a girl fight like this before. Without bending.

The sound of approaching footsteps alerts us we have company. I know immediately Jet and the others have finally found us. _Good_, I think. Now we can end this madness and kill Suki like we should have done long ago. Why did I side with Sokka against my better judgment again?

Suki's eyes are like chips of silver, glowing against the moonlight. She quickly accesses her odds, and I knew before she moved that she wasn't going to fight all of us. Jet's arrival is loud and worried, and offers just enough of a distraction for Sokka. He turned ever so slightly, and Suki jumps at him at that precise moment, like she had been waiting for it. She spins in the air—a perfect roundhouse kick—and her booted foot collides with Sokka's face. He falls to his knees with a loud curse, completely taken off guard.

I run toward him, looking over my shoulder, but Suki was already gone, disappearing in the shadows of the trees.

"What happened?" Smellerbee asks. She narrows her eyes through the trees, as though she might have seen something but doesn't know what.

"Sokka just got his butt kicked by a girl." I can't help it. The retort leaves me lips before I can stop myself.

All my life I had to endure Sokka teasing me for wanting to fight. Because girls weren't supposed to be warriors. And yet even though I was worried for Sokka's safety, I can't help feel a little admiration for a girl who quite easily put my brother in his place. Suki might be my enemy, but my dad taught me it was unwise not to respect your enemies to some extent.

"That is NOT what happened!" Sokka exclaims, red in the face and fuming.

When we get back to camp, Jet takes the watch, though I'm not sure anyone will be able to sleep. As I rest in my bedroll, I decide I was wrong earlier. I had thought Jet was like the white jade bush, so pretty and lethal. But when all that was left of Longshot was a pool of crimson blood, I realize Suki is the one I should be worried about. She's the white jade. Longshot, who bravely took down an armadillo-lion all alone and could shoot a bow better than anyone I had ever seen, was taken down when he was most vulnerable. Suki is smart and calculating, and that makes her dangerous.

Just what I need. Another dangerous tribute to worry about.

_You're alive_, a voice in my head says. _That's what matters_.

"That's true," I mumble to myself, rolling over in my bedroll.

"Talking to those voices again, Katara?"

I hurl my canteen at Jet, only relaxing into my bed when I hear his yelp.

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><p><strong>AN: Honestly, I didn't want to kill Longshot this early, but it just worked out this way. :( Some of you might be surprised by Suki, but do keep in mind that the Avatar world is very different than the show and she's grown up differently. There are some badass female characters in this story..I want to play that up. ;) Now to answer a few questions/reviews:**

**OnMyWayToBelieving: "The fact that I know only 2 people can win is what keeps me the edge of my seat."** - I think people keep forgetting this, lol. There can only be ONE winner. Not two. :P

**sarah-finn: "i was wondering if toph can still use earthbending to see or not?"** - I should say 'wait and see' but I don't think it takes away from the story if you know for sure. Yes, Toph can use Earthbending to 'see' in this story. ;)

**mikoamaya-hikari: "the fact that Elites are "master benders of all four elements" really disturbs me."** - I should have clarified. No one person can use all four elements. There is no Avatar in this story. The Elites are a group of people that come from all areas of the world that run the Games, and thus the group is comprised of all benders. So there are firebenders, earthbenders, waterbenders, and airbenders among the Elites. ;)

**Zuma12121: "s it okay that i haven't read the hunger games yet I'm reading this?"** - Definitely! The idea of throwing kids into a death arena is based off the The Hunger Games book by Suzanne Collins. But there are no spoilers in here that will ruin the book so you're good!

**maluka: "Is aang the avatar?" And "Is there gonna be an epic battle royale between jet and zuko with katara somehow involved?"** - To the first question: No, Aang is not the Avatar; just an Airbender. To the second question...lol I'm sure everyone wants a Zuko/Jet/Katara battle. I'm not sure. If it's in high demand, I'll consider putting it in there. You readers let me know.

**EXTRAS: One: I did this with my Harry Potter stories and it went over well: I'm going to do character questions/answers. Meaning you can ask a "character" a question and I'll respond in the next authors note with what the characters would answer. You can ask ONE character ONE question per chapter. ;) That way I don't get a flood of questions, lol. Some questions I can't answer, like spoilers, but I'll try my best. Don't forget to add who the question is directed at. Example: "Katara, what do you miss most about home?"**

**Two: Although I have an idea where this is going, I love hearing your input and ideas. If you have something you'd like to see in the story, don't hesitate to leave it in the review. If I use the idea, I'll of course credit you in my authors note for the idea. ;) You guys are just as involved in my writing as I am.**

**Updated list of ALIVE tributes:**

**Province 1 - Azula and Zuko**

**Province 2 - Mai and Chan**

**Province 3 - On Ji**

**Province 5 - Ty Lee and Jiro**

**Province 6 - Jet**

**Province 7 - Haru and Smellerbee**

**Province 8 - Toph and Matsu**

**Province 9 - Katara and Sokka**

**Province 11 - Aang**

**Province 12 - Suki**


	12. Warning

**A/N: This chapter might seem a little short, but that's because it was super long and I had to cut it in half. That means the next chapter is nearly complete..so the update will be quick. =) Thanks for your support guys. Important notice at the end of the chapter so be sure to read the authors note. =)**

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><p>"The full value of this life can only be got by fighting; the violent take it by storm. And if we have accepted everything we have missed something - war. This life of ours is a very enjoyable fight, but a very miserable truce." <strong>- <strong>_Gilbert K. Chesterton_

**Chapter 12 - Warning**

I could sense his presence before he could speak. Maybe it was years and years of sneaking around, always alert to my surroundings, ears poised and always listening. The slight ruffle of a leaf: that's all it took. I knew he was there, watching silently. I didn't change my practicing, or bother to hide how much I could do. I didn't even acknowledge him. Instead, I continued in my own trance, concentrating, pushing myself to be better.

"You're going to have to teach me how to throw like that."

At his words I look up, my hand pressed against the hilt of a dagger in the tree. Arms crossed and leaning against a tree, Jet looks perfectly at ease, not at all worried that I might be imaging his face for the target when I throw the dagger.

I rip the metal away from the wood and move back into position.

"So you can use that skill against me?" I give a little _tsk_. "I don't think so. Watch and learn, the same way I did."

"You keep implying that I'm going to kill you," says Jet, moving away from the tree to stand closer to me. He looks amused, that same lazy look he always wears on his face.

"That's sort of the way it works around here," I say, closing an eye to line up my shot. "But you won't kill me, though."

"Really?" Jet's smile was dangerous and very attractive at the same time. "What makes you say that?"

I throw the dagger. It pierces the center of the tree, a perfect shot. "Because I'm going to kill you first."

Jet feigns heartbreak, clutching a hand to his chest. "Why Water Girl, how lightly you speak of my death."

His comment bothers me more than I show. Despite his taunting and joking, I know he's right. The fact that I speak so lightly about killing him worries me, makes me question my own sanity. I shake my head and rip the dagger out again.

"How will you do it, then?" He asks as I line up another shot, his tone mocking. "Knife to the heart?"

"If only you had a heart to cut from your chest," I say reasonably, narrowing my eyes, and throwing the dagger. Another perfect shot, and this time I can't help but feel a little smug. My aim has improved greatly over the years, even better than Sokka.

Jet pulls the dagger out and twirls the blade between his fingers. "Perhaps you'll strangle me with your water, then. Or drown me in it."

I smile cruelly. "I promise to make it interesting."

Jet's eyes gleam and for a moment, as he holds my dagger, my breath hitches. Then, he spins it quickly and holds it out, hilt first. "I certainly hope so," he says, a dangerous note to his voice.

I let out a shaky breath and watch him leave. He gets to the edge of the trees and calls over his shoulder, "Smellerbee and I are going to scout the area and hunt. Don't miss me too much, Water Girl."

"That nickname is stupid," I say lamely.

"I know." I don't have to see him to know he's smirking. "You hardly ever Waterbend. Too busy throwing daggers around."

* * *

><p>I hate waiting.<p>

Not just waiting, but doing absolutely nothing. I'm one of those people that like to be in constant motion, always moving with a purpose. I guess part of me knows I'm probably going to die in these Games, and I don't want to wait around for it to happen. I want to die in battle, at a place of my choosing, on my count. I want to _know_ when I'm going to die. And I want to be okay with it when it happens, knowing I gave everything I had. But I guess that's probably an unrealistic desire.

The upside of all this waiting is I get to practice fighting and Waterbending. I managed to borrow—steal was such a nasty word—a sort of make-shift water skin I found in Smellerbee's stash. It was made of soft leather, perfectly crafted and empty, but I saw it as a perfect opportunity to carry water in it. She and Jet had their own canteens for water anyway, and really, they shouldn't leave things of value out if they don't want anyone to take them. Not here, during these Games, anyway. To be safe, I kept the water skin under my clothes. Whenever Sokka, Aang and I break away from the others, I'll wear it safely out in the open. Until then, I have to stay on guard and careful.

Being in the Games makes me edgy, like I'm afraid to close my eyes even for a second. Part of me wishes I was still alone, with the exception of Sokka and maybe Aang. Alone was something familiar to me and something I could deal with. Alone I did things my way and only had to worry about myself. One mouth to feed. One bed to make. But now, in a group of five, everything feels foreign to me. Besides my brother, I didn't really have friends back at home and this was as close as I've ever been to that.

I was pretty sure most friends don't have an underlying motive to kill each other, though.

_Allies_, Pakku's voice says in my head, _not friends. Know the difference and do not forget it._

Thinking of my mentor puts me in a sour mood. So far I haven't received anything from him or any sponsors. Did they believe in me enough to think I didn't need help yet? Or did they have no faith in me at all, and didn't plan on sending anything? Hama made it seem like I'd have sponsors, and yet, so far I haven't received a thing.

The water whip in my hand snaps forward, slicing against a tall tree. I pull the water back and examine my attack. It's a perfectly clean shot, severing the wood smoothly. I move back, and strike again. And again. And again. I keep striking the wood until it's severed in half, and the tree splits like an open wound. My breath comes out in ragged huffs, but I continue my Waterbending movements.

If Jet wants to insult my lack of Waterbending, fine by me. I'll just show him exactly how much of a _Water Girl_ I can be. He and Smellerbee haven't gotten back yet so I decided to sneak off to the small stream near our camp, in desperate need of a bath and, though I won't admit it to him, a need to practice bending. I bathed first, only stripping to my sarashi—I'm still being watched live, after all. Really though, the world seeing my lady parts was the least of my worries.

Something suddenly nudges me from behind and I jump, pulling my water in front of me and preparing for attack—but no one is there. My eyes scan the forest, through the trees and slivers of branches, finally landing on the ground, at a simple crimson parachute. The fabric bunches together like a pool of blood. My heart leaps and I instinctively glance around, hoping to make eye contact with an Elite holding a Watcher.

I know what this parachute is: my first gift from a sponsor. A few Airbending Elites are in charge of the gifts, making sure the parachute deliver precisely to the right tribute. And yet, Pakku and Hama chose for me to receive now, all the sudden.

I can't help but wonder why as I sift through the parachute. I don't know what I expected for my first gift—food, medicine, a weapon, perhaps—but it certainly wasn't this: a small, rolled up sheet of parchment.

I look up incredulously, as though the sky holds the answers I'm searching for. Sponsors typically spend expensive and high valued gifts for their tributes—I personally had a feeling Prince Zuko's Dao swords were a sponsor gift—but a piece of parchment? That probably cost next to nothing! I wanted to laugh at the sheer irony of such a gift.

"You've really outdone yourself, haven't you, Pakku?" I mutter under my breath, unrolling the parchment. Written in black ink is a single word. A word that wipes all expression from my face. Nearly dropping the parchment, I tuck in my water skin and sprint back to camp.

My mind immediately whirls to pictures of burning tributes, forest fires out of control, wild beasts eating and mauling tributes alive, walls of endless rock. I've watched the Black Games for years, so there were some aspects I expected. This was one of them. But I didn't expect it to happen so soon.

When I make it back to camp, breathless, Jet and Smellerbee have just arrived. I might have been a little disappointed since they appeared to come back empty handed, but there was a more pressing issue at the back of my mind.

I couldn't speak at first, still out of breath. My expression must have alerted them to danger, though, because Sokka and Aang are on their feet, ready for attack. Jet immediately looks toward the trees, Smellerbee snarling. I hold up my hand, trying to ease their panic.

"What is it, Katara?" Sokka asks, pulling out his sword.

I take another moment to catch my breath—how far away had I wandered?—a gesture that apparently drives everyone mad. They're nearly restless when I finally manage to spit out a single word.

"Gauntlet."

The word drops, hanging in the air in an uncomfortable wave of silence. Sokka is the first to snap out of his stupor, his face very serious.

"When?" he asks quietly.

"I don't know." I shake my head. "Soon, I think. Pakku sent me this warning." I hand over the parchment. It's crinkled from my tight grip, but legible none the less.

Smellerbee curses a sling of words I would never be allowed to say in front of my dad. Jet doesn't seem much happier.

"It's too soon for that!" he exclaims. "We're not ready and we don't have nearly enough supplies and weapons. Why are they doing it so early?"

I think I already know, but Sokka responds, and the two boys engage in strategy, Aang eagerly listening in. I sit down on a rock around the fire, tuning it all out. I should have expected this. Why the Elites haven't done more to push us tributes toward each other, with the exception of the fire days ago. They were preparing for the Gauntlet, deciding to do it a little sooner this year.

The Gauntlet was one of the things most tributes looked forward to most, and dreaded most, at the same time.

It only happened once during each Black Games, a completely optional event. Except it wasn't really optional if you wanted to live. If you survive through it, you get an extreme advantage. But that's the thing: everyone else does too. Once the loud gong and fireworks go off, signaling the start of the Gauntlet, it's a race back to the golden phoenix, the Base, where our flags are raised.

Pakku must have gotten a big-time sponsor, because only someone with a lot of money would be allowed to send a warning like this. And that must mean it's happening soon. It also must mean that all the tributes—us included—are pretty far away from the Base. I personally have no idea how far away we are, but I bet Sokka does. Once we make it to the Base, we're rewarded with a peace offering. One night of luxury. Foods of exquisite cuisine, comfortable and warm beds, medicines, survival packs, unlimited water and most importantly, outstanding weapons of our choice. Sounds great, right?

That's where they trick you. My dad always said the Gauntlet was like a double-edged sword. Even as one edge points at the enemy, the opposite edge points right back at you. The result will always be very favorable and very unfavorable at the same time.

It's called the Gauntlet for a reason. The race back to the golden phoenix is dangerous, and many tributes have died because of it. It's the one time tributes are frowned upon for attacking each other—I really don't understand the concept of honor behind the Capital—because the Elites do the attacking. No, the Elites don't _literally_ attack us, but they use their master bending skills to put obstacles in our way, making it nearly impossible to get to the golden phoenix. A Firebending Elite isn't allowed to light me on fire per say, but he or she could make a wall of fire right in the direction I'm running in, so I plow right in to it.

I've seen it happen before.

I don't know how much I tuned out but Sokka's voice suddenly cuts through my thoughts. "I think we should go for it."

I shake my head, but no one sees it. All I can think about is that double-edged sword, biting me in the behind.

"We can get our hands on some custom weapons," Jet says, nodding in agreement. "And have a look at the rest of the competition."

This is the other advantage and disadvantage. You get to see the other tributes, watch them in the flesh, and survey their strengths and weaknesses. But at the same time, they're doing the same to you. You get new weapons, but everyone else _sees_ what you get, unless by some miracle you get there before everyone else. Sometimes the Gauntlet is crucial to victory, but I've seen tributes win that didn't participate in it. It's really a gamble.

"But won't they just attack us when we get there?" Aang asks, frowning.

"No, they can't," says Sokka. "It's against the rules to assault each other during the peace offering. You can't start attacking other tributes until midday the next day."

"And by then everyone is gone," Smellerbee interjects, "with their new supplies. The Games always pick up after the Gauntlet, after everyone is restocked and nursed back to health."

My head is still shaking. "I don't know…"

"We're running low on food," Jet says, gesturing around the camp with a hook sword. "The Elites are scaring away all the animals on purpose, so we'll have no choice but to enter the Gauntlet."

"I don't want to run into Azula and her gang any sooner than we have to," I interject. "And you know she'll be there."

"Who says she'll make it there?" Jet spits angrily.

I stare at him, incredulous. "Have you _seen_ her, Jet? She didn't get a perfect score for no reason." Not to mention if she's there, Zuko will probably be there. And Suki.

No. It would be suicide for us to risk being seen by the other tributes, giving them the opportunity to follow us. We'd be better hoping they'd ignore our group and hunt down one another, eager to gain each other's new supplies. Why would Azula hunt me down if she knew Suki snatched a bag of grenades?

"If Azula will be there, that's more reason to go," says Sokka reasonably. "If we don't, her gang will take all the supplies. It's first come, first serve. Everything always gets taken before the meal."

"This isn't a peace offering!" I'm on my feet now, fuming. "It's just a way for the Capital to give us more ammunition to kill each other without giving it a dirty name!"

Everyone is quiet a moment, and then Aang finally speaks. "I agree with Katara," he says gently. "I don't think we should go. Let them fight each other."

"Yeah, you Airbender's always think that way," says Smellerbee. She clears her throat and spits on the ground, a disgusting hacking sound to it. "Avoid and deflect. You'll get killed thinking that way out here."

"Katara," Sokka starts, his eyes only on me. His tone is hushed, a quiet pleading. "We don't have another choice."

I glance around, knowing this decision rests on my shoulders. Jet is on board with Sokka, his courage and nerve never wavering. Smellerbee looks ready to take down a small army, and I can tell by Aang's expression that he will support whatever decision I make. I sigh, shaking my head. I know Sokka's right. I know we can't let Azula get her hands on more supplies and weapons. Whatever we can grab, that's less she'll have, and that's what matters. But I also like the elusive reputation our gang has at the moment, the fact that we haven't had any run-ins with the princess. Well, _I_ haven't, more accurately.

Not going through the Gauntlet seems like a better move, because it would imply to the others that we don't _need_ the supplies and night of luxury. That's the message I would rather send to the Capital and other tributes. _No, we don't want or need anything from you._

Maybe it's just my pride thinking. This isn't about me, though, or my pride. This is about doing what's in the best interest of our group. I sigh again, slumping forward in defeat.

"We'll go." Jet gives a little excited start and I add, "But if I get killed because of this stupid Gauntlet I'm coming back and haunting you all."

I don't know how long we go over various tactics and methods to get to the Base, but I'm pretty sure every single one went right in one ear and out the other. I'm so nervous I can barely listen to Sokka and Jet, both attempting to be the leader and failing miserably. A battle of testosterone, more accurately. It reminds me of a time I went hunting with my dad, and we encountered two male polar leopards challenging one another to be the alpha male. We were able to take both of them down, without much effort, really, because they were too busy challenging each other to notice a real threat.

I can't let that happen here.

"I have an idea," I say, breaking up the argument. Jet and Sokka both look at me, faces flushed with anger and annoyance. For some reason, Pakku's last words of advice come back to me in a flash. "Just focus on staying alive."

Complete silence—and then a burst of laughter.

"That's it?" Jet asks, spluttering with laughter. "Focus on staying alive? How much does that valuable advice cost?"

My temper flares. "Do you really think you can plan every move through the Gauntlet?" I ask, voice rising. "You think the Elites will just let you pave a perfect little path toward the golden phoenix? Because they won't, Jet! They're going to do everything in their power to obliterate you, and you're going to have to think on your feet. That's the key to the Gauntlet—unpredictable, spontaneous, smart, decisions. You have to do what they don't expect." I stand from my spot by the fire, crossing my arms and shoot a glare at Jet and Sokka. "Don't make yourself such easy prey. Stop fighting amongst each other for a second or you're going to get killed without even realizing you're under attack."

Everyone is silent, surprised by my outburst. Even Aang looks a little frightened and I immediately soften, sighing. Finally, Smellerbee claps.

"About time someone says something that makes sense around here," she says, kicking back and biting into something that disturbingly looks like bark. "I'm listening to Nine."

Jet shoots her a dark glare, and I don't bother correcting her with my real name, too relieved someone is on my side. I take a few deep breaths, calming down. I didn't realize I was so worked up to begin with, but my stomach feels like it's been twisted into knots. I just want the Gauntlet to be over and done.

The irony of my life: at that moment, the gong rings out, and two brilliant sparks of red flare in the sky.

The Gauntlet has begun.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading! Now firstly, a bit of potentially exciting (for you all, not me) news. I know how I want this story to end, but I don't think I can wrap it up in this story without dragging it out too much. So...there more than likely will be a sequel. *sighs* I didn't want to write one, because they're tough, but I think I have to. :P No, I haven't read Mockingjay and I haven't even finished Catching Fire, so I can't say if it will be similar to either of them. Maybe. ;) So rejoice, if you like sequels. Haha**

**Now to answer a few respones/quotes:**

**mikoamaya-hikari: "Zuko: After the two of you got away from the mole, what thought was going through your mind when Katara was looking down at your face as she laid across your body?"** – "That she had very pretty eyes."

**Glittery Princess Kenzie: "Azula- What's your favourite way to kill another tribute?"** – "Any way I can."

**Anonymous: "I think there needs to be more death it's kinda moving at a slow pace."** – It is, and that's for a few reasons. These kids are more talented than the Hunger Games' kids. Like in the show, they manage to do incredible things and still survive. They have bending to add to their advantage (most of them) and better fighting skills. So the games last longer, and the deaths take longer. ;)

**LookMeInTheStars: "But your chapter was really great with the Suki/Sokka scene. Just wondering if you are going to throw in a side romance between those two as well?"** – Originally, no. But now I'm not sure. Maybe. But it won't be like we saw in the show. It would be..very different from the Sukka we saw, but still something fun to play around with. We'll see.

**arianaD: "Zuko, do you stalk me?"** – "No! What kind of question is that?"

**Justice333: "Zuko, why did you decide to do this alone?"** – "My whole life I've done things alone, why stop now?"

**Black Firelight: "Honestly tho,...the one tribute that I'm really waiting for is Toph."** - I know I know. Toph was going to be where Aang is now, but I have other plans for her. Let me just say she's a very smart tribute. That's all. :P

**Anenihan: "at some point zuko must pin katara to a tree and kiss her senseless, then just kind of walk away."** - HAHA! This made my day. Might have to add it somewhere just for you.

**The Emerald Doe: "Zuko, what happened to your mom?"** **AND "I just wanted to make this clear- the games aren't being broadcast live?"**  
>- "She's gone." And for your second question, the games ARE broadcasted live. I know televisions wouldn't really be used in the Avatar world this long ago, but ATLA is still a fictionalmagical world so I'm rolling with it, lol.

**Remember you can ask one character a question per chapter, guys! Thanks to those who asked so far. =)**


	13. The Gauntlet

**A/N: I debated updating so quickly, since the next chapter will be a bit longer. But why make you all wait when this was ready to go? :P This is one of my favorites so far, also. Hope you like it!**

* * *

><p>"Trying hard now<p>

It's so hard now

Trying hard now

Getting strong now." - _Gonna Fly Now_, Bill Conti

**Chapter 13 - The Gauntlet**

Two full seconds go by before the five of us are moving. The fireworks are purposely set off from the Base, and judging the distance, we have a few miles to cover. Not terrible, but it's not going to be easy, either. I can only hope the other tributes are further away than we are, offering a distraction for the Elites to focus on.

We only make it about twenty feet when the world transforms to flame and smoke. I jump, leap, and hop my way through the falling embers, keeping my eyes on the back of Jet's tall form. I know Sokka and the others are behind me, and I have to force myself not to turn around. That would only slow me down, and ultimately, slow everyone else down.

My boot catches on a root and I nearly fall, pitching forward and knocking into Jet. He manages to steady me without turning all the way around, and we're off again. I remember this same horrible, suffocating smoke, just before I had fallen into the underground caves. It burns like poison with each gulping breath. We won't make it long in this smoke.

"Aang!" I cry, coughing, glancing over my shoulder. "Try to push the smoke back!"

For a second I think he hasn't heard me, that I need to shout again, but then a gust of wind nearly takes me off my feet, and the Airbender clears our path. The force behind his blow is impressive—much more intense than what I had seen of him previously—and the smoke subsides. I feel a momentary rush of relief, but it's quickly lived. Rocks and boulders fly in our direction from somewhere up ahead. Jet pulls out his hook swords and slices two in half, snarling.

I pull out my water, and the two of us slice our way through the rocks, clearing a path for the rest of our group. The trees are closing in, and the branches slash at my skin as I run past. Something sharp grazes my cheek, a thorn branch of some sort, but I don't slow down. Something silver gleams and whirls past my ear, circles through the trees and collides with a rock, and comes back at me. I duck before it can take my head off.

"Yeah, that's what I thought!" Sokka exclaims, gripping the sharp piece of silver. I have to narrow my eyes at his weapon—a boomerang.

There's no time to comment on it, though, because I nearly run off a cliff. I scream, my eyes taking in the many, many feet below, to what looks like giant patches of razor sharp thorn bushes. Something jolts me backwards from behind, before I tumbled to my death.

"What is this?" Smellerbee hisses through staggered breaths. Her face is cut and scratched, bleeding.

I look to both sides, gaping in surprise. There is no way this canyon was here before—surely I would have seen it? But, the arena is huge, and there's no way I've been all over it. Most likely, though, this is something the Elites have set up on purpose. Another test for the Gauntlet. It was like looking at a canyon, wide and gaping, nothing below except the black, tangled thorn bushes. There is no way around it—the canyon seems to go on for miles in both directions. There's only one way to cross it, just the way the Elites have planned.

"Only Aang has a shot. The rest of us can't get across."

As soon as the words leave Sokka's mouth, columns of rock burst up from the ground, creating what looks like an array of tall and narrow stepping stones. A lump swells in my throat.

"We have to jump," I say, adjusting my satchel and water skin under my clothes, making sure they're secure. "From one to the other, like stepping stones."

"Katara—"

A piercing, high-pitched sound cuts Jet off midsentence.

I glance up, flinching, as an enormous bird soars through the sky. Crimson feathers as thick and shiny as scales, glimmering with flecks of gold as the light hits it. Gleaming yellow eyes. Talons like frozen bronze and a long, golden tail nearly the same length as its body. Fire crackles at the tips of its wings, red and orange and gold. It's as beautiful as it is frightening. But when it looks at me with fierce, liquid fire eyes, my decision is made and I don't think twice.

I leap toward the first rock column.

Too far. I nearly soar right over it, but manage to snag the edge with my fingers, my body hanging. The thorn bushes below are now crackling with fire. It's far enough below that it doesn't burn me but I can still feel the heat—the reminder of what waits below—licking my ankles.

Someone is shouting my name, but I tune it out, concentrating. I grit my teeth and use all my upper body strength, hauling myself up onto the column. My fingers are bleeding and throbbing but I can't worry about that now. I glance at the ledge toward the worried faces of my alliance.

"I'm alright," I say, grimacing, my arms scraped and stinging.

A bone-chilling shriek slices through the hazy sky. I look up, watching the predatory bird circle us like prey from above. It's very focused on something below us. The way it moves reminds me of something I saw at home, and I have a horrible feeling of why that is. "We have to move fast!" I shout to the others. "Before this bird decides we're a threat. Aang, can you fly to the other side?"

"I don't think I can," he says, edging toward the edge to get a better look. "It's too far and I don't have my glider."

"Okay then, you go first," I say, standing shakily on the rock column. I know the Earthbending Elites are watching, and can easily hurl me to the fiery pit below and make it look like an accident. We have to move quickly before they get bored and decide to do it. "Get to the other side and wait for us. You can use your Airbending to help us balance from there, once we get close enough."

"But, Katara—"

"Sokka there isn't time!" I shout, cutting him off. "We have to move. Now. This is the only way."

Aang manages to leap past me through the air, landing silently on the next column. I watch, slightly mesmerized, as he moves through the air with a beautiful grace, barely touching each column as he leaps his way across the canyon. His movements are silent and quick as the wind and in no time at all, he's safely across. I feel little relief, knowing at least one of us made it.

"I'll go next," I say, turning back to my brother and the others. "We'll go one at a time, so stay right behind me." Sokka doesn't look happy with this plan but I don't give him any time to disagree with it.

I take a deep breath and mutter "Damn Gauntlet," before I gather my balance, and leap to the next column. I don't have the advantage of using air to keep me balanced, but years of running across the tops of the buildings in Province 9 pay off. The tops of the columns are slippery rock, like ice. My boots slide when I land, but I manage to steady myself before toppling down. As long as I don't think about how high I am, I can do this.

After my third leap I glance behind me. Jet is two columns back, Smellerbee one behind him, and Sokka has just made his first jump.

_Almost halfway_, I think. _I'm almost there_. I'm getting closer to where the bird is circling, and this makes my next jump a little sloppy. I land on my stomach, rather than my feet, and it feels like my ribs crack against the rock. The impact knocks the breath out of me, but I still get to my feet. It isn't until I hear Aang's panicked shout do I start to panic myself.

"Katara!"

"Katara, hurry!"

This time it's Sokka shouting at me. I glance over my shoulder, and see Jet has caught up to me, only one column behind. I don't understand the fuss at first, and then I see the problem.

The columns behind Sokka are exploding. The Elites must be restless with our tactic method to cross the canyon. I don't hesitate and fling myself at the next column, landing on my stomach again. I get to the feet a bit shakily, and quickly jump to the next column, the sound of exploding rock echoing in my ears. Above, the giant bird lets out more piercing cries at the sounds of the blasting rock. It swoops down at Jet, most likely associating what the Elites are doing with us. Jet ducks, flattening himself against the rock, nearly losing his hook swords.

My body wants to give up, but something inside keeps me going. Maybe it's that I don't want to be dinner for a fire bird, or fall into a fiery pit of thorns. Maybe it's my dad's voice, urging me to keep going. Whatever it is, it works, because I'm practically flying over the columns.

When I reach Aang, I literally dive into his arms. He steadies me, and though my body is trembling, I turn back to the others. The bird is still circling from above, its fiery wings glowing against the burning sky. It dives for Smellerbee this time and she loses her balance, barely catching herself on the edge.

"We've got to do something about that bird," I say to Aang.

"It's a phoenix," he replies, his voice oddly quiet. "You know what will happen if we kill it."

I nearly smack myself for not realizing earlier. The phoenix is our nation's national bird, one associated specifically with the Capital. I have never seen one in person, or even in a picture, per say, but it's been described to me before in history lessons. I should have recognized it. Still, it's illegal to hurt or kill them. Or more appropriately, to be caught doing it. Once back at home, a stranger brought a vial of phoenix tears to the White House. I have no idea what the tears do, but he left with bags of gold and fortune.

"Well, we have to do something," I say, racking my brain. "We can't just do nothing!"

The phoenix dives again, whirling fire around Sokka. I nearly scream, and then run toward the edge to catch Jet. He clears the edge, just in time before he bends over and coughs up blood. A sliver of gold catches my attention, just over his shoulder.

"Aang!" Without looking at him, I shake his arm. "Can you get us to the middle column?" Sokka is almost halfway now. The phoenix seems very interested in him, more so than the others. Probably because he's being an idiot and shouting at it, only fueling its annoyance and anger. I have to get to the middle before he does.

I look at Aang, pleading.

"I…" he shakes his head, looking anxious, eyes very wide.

"You can do this," I say firmly. "You just have to make sure I don't fall."

"Katara," he starts.

"You can do this!" I say again, trying to sound encouraging but failing, knowing I sound hysterical and harsh. "You _have_ to do this, Aang! I need you. I need you to trust me."

Smellerbee leaps to the edge at that moment, and misses, but Jet catches her hand and hauls her up. She looks horrible. Bloody and cut and bruised, but I can't worry about her when Sokka is still out there. I pull out my satchel and make sure it's hanging in front of me, the pouch open. I don't wait for Aang's answer but instead leap back onto the columns. Jet shouts my name but I ignore him.

I manage to leap across the columns, one at a time, only one foot touching each one. It's like I'm flying again, and part of my brain knows Aang must be helping. I reach the middle before Sokka, who is stuck one behind. The Elites must think the phoenix is more entertaining, because they haven't blown up the one he's trapped on yet.

Sokka sees me then, blue eyes widening, as he looks up at me from his crouched form. "What—?"

The column I'm on gives little room, barely enough for my two feet to stand on. But that's what I need and I lower myself so that my body is wrapped around the circular column. _Just a training exercise_, I tell myself, closing my eyes. Slowly, carefully, I start inching my way down, digging my fingers into the small crevices in the rock to control my grip.

Aang is now on top of my column, looking down with wide, worried eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asks in alarm.

"She's protecting her egg!" I shout, glancing up, clenching my teeth at the pain in my arms. "I'm going to get it. I need you to push the fire back with your Airbending, Aang! When I get close enough to the egg, push the fire back!"

When I finally reach the egg, my arms are shaking from applying so much pressure, my entire body convulsing against the column. My stomach muscles are tight and burning, but I know it's nothing compared to how hot the golden egg will be when I grab it. Still, it's the only way the phoenix will leave us alone, and part of me has an undying need to return the baby to its mother.

Phoenixes typically stay in the Fire Provinces, in the humid heat. The only reason one would be here—I'm almost positive we're _not_ in the Fire Provinces—is if the Capital brought it for a reason. I can't believe the Capital would plant an egg somewhere like this, hidden in the arena, tormenting this poor mother bird. Actually, I can, and this only hardens my determination more.

I can see the top of the egg now, gleaming gold and shining, nestled at the top of the fiery thorns. I'm relieved it's not buried any lower. The heat is so intense and I'm not even close enough. Aang can't actually get rid of the fire since he isn't a Firebender, but the air can push the fire back quickly enough that I'll be able to snatch the egg. At least I hope.

With one last deep breath, I tighten my legs around the column and lean back, using only the muscles in my stomach to keep me from the flames, and reach out a shaky hand. The fire seems to snarl at me and I pull back, gasping.

"The fire, Aang!" I shout. I'm so far down though that I'm sure he can't hear me. I can't even see him when I look up.

I try again, deciding I might have to actually have to stick my hand through the fire. A gust of wind suddenly blows the flames, rippling them like water, and I reach at an odd angle—partially backwards and to the left—until my hands surround the golden egg. My fingers scrap against the thorns, digging and cutting into my skin, as I rip the egg free. The fire burns my arms, Aang's air only lasting a second, and I nearly drop the egg, which also burns. I bite my lip to keep from screaming until I taste blood, and quickly put the egg in my satchel.

I move the satchel so it's behind me, and the egg is so hot, I can feel it through the fabric of my bag. I start climbing back up, my eyes sealed shut, focusing on Sokka and those who need me. The egg is heavy, causing me more work, and I move at a slow, shaky pace. When I reach Aang, he pulls me up, somehow managing to keep us both balanced on the narrow column.

"Go!" I shout at him, blinking back tears. "Get back to Jet and Smellerbee."

Aang's eyes are wide. "You're hurt!"

I'm burning, not hurt. I shake my head and shove him off the column. He lets out a noise of surprise and lands on the next one over, looking upset, like I betrayed him. Sokka is shouting at me again but all I can think about is getting this egg to its mother. I swing my satchel around and dig out the egg, pressing it to the top so it peeks out, and I can still grip it from the outside of my satchel. My hands are already scalding, the skin peeling and turning a disgusting shade of pink but I can't stop now.

I look up—and the phoenix is staring at me.

I hadn't realized how large it is until this moment, as it hangs in midair directly in front of me, flapping its wings very slowly, methodically. Sparks of fire flare from its wings, and its eyes are a burning red-gold, holding more power in its gaze than I had ever seen in my life. For some reason the bird reminds me of an angel of fire, if there was such a thing.

I hold its gaze, even though I want to look away. It's challenging me, I can see that, and I won't back down now. I try to keep from shaking. If it's going to kill me, I'm going to die standing strong.

Without looking away, I lift the egg into the air. And then, some instinct tells me to bow my head, like I'm presenting a magnificent gift to a king. For a moment nothing happens, and my arms tremble. Then, I feel the weight of the egg leave my satchel, and look up. The golden egg, nearly the size of my head, is now captive in the phoenix's bronze talons. The bird gazes at me again, I swear there is something ridiculously human about it, and then she flies off with a piercing _caw_ that somehow reminds me of a _thank you_.

I watch the phoenix fly away, a blur of crimson in the gold streaked light. For a second, I forget about the Games, wrapped up in this beautiful moment. I wish I could paint this picture: the magnificent phoenix flying off into the horizon. The picture of freedom and beauty. I smile ever so faintly, and then I'm falling.

Arms wrap around me and I look up—at Aang. His brows are furrowed in worry and I have no idea how he's here, right now. I close my eyes for a second, and when I open them, I'm on the safe side of the canyon. I blink and steady myself, pulling out of the arms touching me.

"Are you okay?" Sokka asks, shaking me slightly. I wince, and he removes his arms. "Katara, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I saved your life," I point out, coming to my senses. My entire body is throbbing, aching all over, but this is the Gauntlet. There is no time for pain and suffering.

Sokka ignores my comment and lightly grips my arms, forcing me to look down. It's not a pretty picture. My arms are scraped, cut, and bloody. My hands are worse, though: the skin is torn and ragged, the flesh burnt and seared and bloody. I can hear Jet retching in the background, but I'm not sure it's because of how I look. Sokka rips off some of his tunic and gently wraps my hands. I wince, biting down tears. The medicine in my pack might help, but there isn't time until we're safely at the peace offering.

"We have to keep going," I say, determined. The sound of grinding rock behind us is enough of a warning. The Elites must have given us a few minutes to recover, probably thanks to my heroic egg saving episode. I wonder how that went over at the Capital: Province 9 tribute risks her life to return a phoenix egg and save her brother.

Maybe I'll make headlines.

I look back at Jet. "What happened to you?"

He wipes his mouth and shakes his head at me, pale faced but still managing a rough smile. "Nothing like what happened to you. That was amazing what you did."

"It was nothing." I shake my head. "I wouldn't have been able to do it with Aang." I throw him a meaningful smile. "I told you that you could do it."

Aang blushes, but I can see a little boost of confidence spring up inside him. This makes me happy. All he needed was a little encouragement. My dad always said nothing was impossible if you believed it possible.

We take off at a brisk pace soon after our recovery, running in to little trouble along the way. All I think about is my dad back at home, watching every second of this. I have to keep going for him. For Sokka. For Aang. For those who need me.

I jump over logs, flying pieces of rock, avoid bursts of wind, and try my best not to fall down too many times. Each time I do, someone pulls me to my feet, and we set off again. We don't see any more fire, but when we finally encounter a bit of water, I find myself panicking. My hands are so scorched I can't even deflect it as it wraps around me, drowning me in a ball of icy water.

For a second, my body is suspended in the water. I open my eyes—everything is blurry, the colors fading around me. I try to swim out of it but the water is so compacted it does little good. My hands are no use, and I close my eyes, my brain reeling. I don't want to drown. Not here, not now, not ever. The irony of a Waterbender drowning is almost funny to me, except it's not funny at all.

The water is frozen around me now, and I can't move. My lungs are nearly bursting, dying for some air. If Hama could bend water out of plants, and bend blood without a full moon, I should be able to find a way out of this situation.

I breath out threw my nose, bending the water backwards, creating an air bubble. Concentrating, I expand the bubble until it breeches the sphere. I feel the push and pull from inside me, like some sort of pulsing energy. I pull it all in until the pressure builds up so much I nearly explode, and then I release it—the sphere shatters to a thousand pieces of ice and I hit the ground.

I stand up shakily, dripping wet, and see Sokka frozen in an icy block. I grab one of Jet's fallen swords and start slashing at the ice until it shatters. I do the same for Smellerbee while Sokka frees Jet and Aang, and then we're off again.

I don't know how long we ran, dodging bits of rock and fire and water. Swinging from trees, crawling through mud, scaling rock walls. When I finally catch a sliver of gold through the trees, my heart leaps. Never in my life have I been so exhausted, so drained. I stumble through the trees and over roots, eyes set on the golden phoenix. Our group is completely silent aside from our ragged breathing, all of us on the verge of passing out, when we finally make it into the Base. It's nearly unrecognizable from the opening day.

The wide, open clearing is draped under a massive white marquee. In the very middle is a table set for a king. Dishes of all cuisines are sprawled across in gold plates and bowls. I can smell stews, vegetables, meats, candies. An enormous roast perched high on a gold platter rests in the middle, the smell making my mouth water. Past the table is an area full of weapons, supplies, bags, water canteens, everything we might need. Female Guards stand by carrying large bags near several cots—healers. Another area is marked off for sleeping, bed rolls and pillows of luxury. All I want to do is grab one and go to sleep. Part of me doesn't even care about the feast.

And then my eyes rest on one end of the table, on the six hungry eyes that are staring right at me.

It seems we weren't the first to arrive.

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading and for the character questions! I've decided since I haven't gotten an overload, you all can ask TWO questions per chapter. Either two for the same character, or two different characters. Your choice. ;) Here are the resonses from last chapter:

**On Ji, how the HELL are you not dead yet! Do you have ANY skills whatsoever? - ***blanches* I have skills...the princess says I have skills..

**Katara, what's your opinion of Zuko- especially after you both saved each other's lives?** - I'm...not sure yet. Prince Zuko is hard to figure out.

**Zuko, when will you make your next appearance, and what was your first thought upon running into Katara?** - When I want to be seen, I will be. My first thought on...who? Katara? The girl from Nine? I was surprised to see her.

**Katara, Zuko says he thinks your eyes are pretty. Your response?** - He...what? *blinks* You must have misheard him. I don't think Prince Zuko knows anything of beauty.

**Katara, do you think you're being too hard on yourself?** - No. Of course not.

**Sokka, if it came down to you and Katara, would you kill yourself to save her?** - That's the plan.

Now to respond to a few reviews:

**Black Firelight: "I am still very interested in just how you'll manage the character deaths along with keeping the pairing evolving."** - Lol me too. It's a really big challenge because honestly, who wants to fall in love with someone that you have to kill to survive? That's why this story will be long, probably around 20-25 chapters. It's going to take time (for the characters to be killed off..these are smart characters here) and for romance to happen.

**Justice333: "So their will be a sequel, sounds interesting..."** - I'm actually really excited for the sequel. Already started mapping out new characters, plot, etc. All I can say is there will be some angry people at the end of this story..but the sequel is when it really goes down. I hope everyone saves their judgement for the end of THAT story. Because this ending isn't the end. :P There are A LOT of surprises in the sequel. :D

**Midori Aoi: "As for Toph, if you kill her off like how Collins killed of Rue I'm going to ball my freaking eyes out."** - Someone dies very similar to Rue's death...but I'm not going to say if it's Toph or someone else because I'm evil like that. Already wrote that scene too..it's sad. :(

**AnnaAza: "Gauntlet. That was a really cruel twist. It's worse than The Hunger Games."** - I think I could have gone meaner than what happens, lol. I guess the phoenix bit was more cool than cruel. I could have written chapters over the entire Gauntlet but had to reduce it to one. :( I wish I could have made it more detailed but this chapter was already so long as is.


	14. BONUS FEATURE one

**A/N: STOP! Before you read on, this contains minor spoilers. Very minor, but still. Since you guys have been so awesome, I've decided to do a little bonus feature. Below is the exclusive prologue for the Black Games' sequel, called Insurgent. The title and prologue are subject to change, of course. =) You don't have to read this at all...read at your own discretion, as they say. Please read the bottom authors note for future bonus chapters.**

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><p><strong>in·sur·gent - <strong>[in-**sur**-j_uh_nt] _**noun **_

_**_**Origin: **_  
><strong>_1755–65; Latin _insurgent_- (stem of _insurgēns_ ) present participle of _insurgere_ to get up, ascend, rebel. See in-2 , surge, -ent

**1. **A person who rises in forcible opposition to lawful authority, especially a person who engages in armed resistance to a government or to the execution of its laws; rebel.

**Prologue **

So often we only do what we think is expected of us, unaware that we are capable of so much more. At least, that's what I've always heard. I never really believed it, though, because I always assumed we did everything to our own capabilities. That's what I thought before the Black Games. I didn't know my own capabilities until I was put to the test. Until I was pushed beyond my own comfortable limits. Pushed and pushed until I broke.

Except I didn't break.

My name is [BLANK] and I am the victor of the 75th Annual Black Games. That's what everyone keeps saying, at least. Victor. Winner. Champion. Except, I don't feel like any of those things. They leave out the finer details, that in order to be the victor you have to lose everything. Family. Friendship. Love. Pieces of your own soul. Doesn't sound much like a victor, does it?

I lost pieces of myself in that arena. Somewhere along the way I lost the ability to discern the truth from lies. I bled, I cried, I fought, I ran, I hid, I lied, I loved, I killed. I became someone I had no idea I could be, more than anything expected of me. I wish I could feel guilty about everything I did. But I don't believe in regrets, because if you do, how can you let yourself live and move on? Maybe I once believed in regrets, but I don't any longer, no more than I believe in accidents and mistakes.

I didn't win the Games on accident, and I didn't win by making mistakes. I won because I went as far as I could go, and then I kept going. Because every time I fell, I stood back up. Tell me to jump, and I'll say how high. Tell me to run, and I'll say how far. Tell me I can't do something, and I'll prove you wrong. Tell me to surrender, and I'll say never.

I won because the twenty three other tributes couldn't keep me down. And neither can the Capital. Winning didn't make me cherish my life more. It made me want to fight for it again. Not just for me, but for everyone I love—the ones who are here, and the ones that have moved on. For all of the Fire Nation. We deserve freedom—and I'm going to give it to them. Or I'll die trying.

I am a believer. A law breaker. A rebel.

I am an insurgent.

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><p><strong>AN: Uh oh, are we nervous about the ending of The Black Games now? :P ANYONE that's still in the games right now could be the winner. You'll have to wait and see. Mwaha.**

**Now, I mentioned future bonus features, yes? Okay here's the deal. I got the idea from Just Nine Letters, who mentioned reading about Hakoda's point of view while watching the games. So for every 200 reviews, I will write a bonus chapter for you all. And you all get to vote on what you want me to write! It must be related to this story and content, though. When we reach every 200 reviews (so at 400, 600, and 800 if we get there, wow!), I'll make the announcement and you guys can leave ideas in a review. I'll pick five and you guys can vote on them. I'll make a poll and give you the link to vote. =)**

**So..we HAVE reached over 200..and even though I gave you the prologue for Insurgent, I'm feeling nice. Leave your suggestions and the poll will be ready with the next chapter update. ;) Which should be less than a week. I hope. =)**

**Thank you for reading!**


	15. Peace Offering

A/N: Seriously, props to people who write fighting scenes that consist of more than five people. This chapter was a tough one. I'm glad so many of you liked the teaser for the sequel! I've taken your ideas for the** bonus scene** and added some of my own. To vote please go to my Deviantart page and scroll down; it's on the left. The link to my page is on my profile here. Voting will stay open for about a week or two, unless there's like no votes or one is winning by a ton. ;) If you have trouble finding the poll, just send me a message.

Anyway, hope you guys like the chapter!

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><p>"There's no easy way out<p>

There's no shortcut home  
>There's no easy way out<p>

Givin' in can't be wrong." - _No Easy Way Out_, Robert Tepper

**Chapter 14 - Peace Offering**

When I first saw the peace offering, I thought it looked like a meal set for a king. Looking at it now, though, with five Fire Province tributes flanking around the head of the table, I realize my assumption wasn't quite right. Not fit for a king. A _princess_.

Princess Azula, in fact.

She's sitting at the head of the table, drumming her nails against the polished wood. She looks very regal in her expensive black and crimson armor, adorned in gold, the metal shoulder plates curving up into sharp points. Her hair is pulled back, two thick strands hanging straight and perfectly in front of her face. Very orderly and put together. Like she isn't a tribute fighting for her life, but rather a princess on holiday. And here we all are, attending one of her dinners. I can't say the same about the other Fire tributes but they certainly don't look half starved, wounded, or otherwise damaged.

Sokka makes the first move—most likely toward the weapons—when I fling an arm out to stop him. Everyone is watching us, but it's Azula's gaze that keeps me still. I wondered at first why the Base looked so perfect and appealing, and now I know why.

Azula and her gang arrived first. They would have been allowed to take any weapons they wanted, seek medical attention, claim their beds, anything they desired. The feast can't start until Qin Lee arrives—the same man who does the interviews back at the Capital. The peace offering gains a lot of attention back at the provinces because it's the only time inside the Games that we're interacting with them and the real world. But that's not what bothers me. It's the fact that Azula and the other tributes haven't _touched_ anything. They haven't taken any weapons, supplies, nothing. Why?

Then, Azula's bored expression changes, and I can see the answer on her gloating, smug face.

_We don't need it._

My stomach drops. Usually it's a free-for-all at the start of the peace offering if so many tributes arrive around the same time. Tributes fighting over supplies and weapons, until the Elites have to step in. There's no fighting allowed inside the peace offering boundaries but that doesn't mean things don't happen without moderation. So naturally, I expected some sort of conflict. But, no. Instead of tributes arguing or trading supplies and weapons it's eerily calm.

The Fire tributes watch us from the table with challenging expressions, even tiny On Ji. All, I notice, except Ty Lee. So help me but the girl is _smiling_. I really don't know what to make of her but I know her gesture is anything but welcoming. My pride keeps me standing where I am, despite the fact that I have to keep blinking so my vision stops wavering.

Sokka breaks out of my grasp, throwing me a confused look, and follows Jet and Smellerbee toward the weapons. They barely offer the Fire tributes a second glance, and it takes me a full minute before I take a seat on the opposite end of the table. Aang seems very torn on where to go, but his loyalty to me reigns supreme and he takes a seat quietly on my left.

"Shouldn't you…?" he starts, nodding toward the medical area.

"I'm fine," I grit lowly.

"Katara…"

"I said I'm fine."

"But you're bleeding on the table." Aang's voice is a low hush, like he doesn't want the rest of the tributes to hear him. "It's dripping down your face. Look."

I do and to my surprise, he's right. Just below my shiny gold plate—thankfully not touching it—is small two drops of blood. I bring a wrapped hand to my face and grimace. I must look worse than I thought.

When Aang gently guides me toward the medical area, I give little protest. Part of my pride is wounded from giving in but my aching bones and scalding skin says I have to. Infection would be a horrible way to die, not to mention shameful.

The healers from the Capital aren't Waterbenders, and they don't have the highest quality remedies. Just the bar minimum for us tributes. An apparently nameless healer cleans me up and re-addresses my hands, wrapping fluffy white bandages around them. I wonder how long it'll be until they're stained with dirt or blood. The cuts and scrapes are treated with a crème that stings. My knuckles are still cracked, a few pieces of dried blood refusing to leave my skin, but I start to feel a little better when I go back to the table. I thank the healer but she says nothing.

Haru and Suki are here now—I hadn't even heard them arrive—and I have to constantly hit Sokka with my foot under the table for him to stop glaring at Suki as she moves through the weapons area. I'm pretty sure my brother's wounded pride will never fully heal from their fight. As we wait for the rest of the tributes, I take the time to survey Haru and Suki. The Earthbender looks worse, bruised and battered, his long hair messily thrown into a low wolf tail. He's examining several rough looking daggers, ones I assume he picked up here. The blades are jagged, various colors of grey flecked with bronze. Stone daggers. He'll be able to Earthbend with them, I realize with a jolt. Best to stay clear of him. Suki on the other hand looks almost as unarmed as the Fire tributes. She's dirty though, like she swam through a muddy river. When she moves toward the medical area, that's when I notice the cuts on her arms. I wonder what she encountered to get here.

I don't bother with any weapons—Sokka took care of finding me a hand crafted water skin to carry my element and a glimmering silver dagger. That's all I need, anyway, and my big game plan is for Sokka and I to outlast everyone else, not fight them off one by one.

_What will you do then? If it's you and Sokka left?_

I shake my head at the thought. That's not something I need to worry about right now. All that matters is the present. I can't think about the past or the future. Only now.

A gong rings out and suddenly we're surrounded by a blaze of white light. Golden beams have been placed around the Base, some twenty feet high, and flames gleam off them, encircling us in a cage of fire. Except it's not like fire I've ever seen in person, only the kind you hear about in stories. Or if you watch the Games, you see it during the peace offering.

White fire.

Not only is white fire the hottest of all fire, but it's also known as Everlasting Fire. It only needs to be fueled once. It will simply last forever, or until the Firebender who created it defuses the flame. My dad says that Everlasting Fire can only be produced by the Sun Warriors, the original Firebenders who learned from the dragons. Which would mean a Sun Warrior is also an Elite. I don't know if that's true, though, because my dad also said the Sun Warriors ancient city is no longer in existence.

Maybe he made it all up to make an interesting bedtime story. Either way, the fire is dazzling and bright, reminding me oddly of the stars, with the way it glows white, and I know it's not going to die any time soon. The fire means the peace offering has officially begun, and no other tributes will be allowed in, and we won't be allowed out until it goes away.

A hot air balloon begins lowering over the Base—Qin Lee and some Watchers, I'm sure—but my mind is elsewhere. Where are Zuko, Toph, and Matsu? Did they not make it here? Did they choose not to come? I didn't hear any canons go off so they must be alive.

Qin Lee and his crew arrive excitedly and dinner is served after quick introduction interviews. I answer vaguely; not giving anything away but making sure the Watchers catch my confidence. Qin Lee doesn't mention the phoenix and the egg, and I wonder if he's saving it for our longer interviews. The meal at least gives me time to come up with an explanation. I dig into my food far more quickly than I should. So many sensations go off in my mouth: salty, sweet, sour, soft, crunchy. It's the single best meal I've ever eaten, and I don't even pay attention to exactly _what_ I'm eating. Only when do I catch Sokka's barbaric behavior do I slow my pacing. I refuse to look related to him when he eats like that.

"So where's your brother?"

For a moment I think someone is talking to me, and then I realize its Jiro's voice, the cute boy from Province Five. Not only is Sokka noticeably_ here_, but there would be no reason Jiro would be speaking to me. His question is quite obviously pointed to Azula. I shift in my seat, concentrating on their conversation.

Azula is quiet for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. She's staring straight ahead with a lingering gaze, like she can see through the wall of fire.

"That is a very good question," she says at last. Her voice is very clear and concise, hard to misunderstand. It's also not hidden behind hushed whispers. She doesn't seem to care who overhears her conversation.

"You thought he'd come," Ty Lee concedes, twirling a set of chopsticks between her fingers before poking the middle of an egg soufflé.

"So I did." Azula sighs, looking disappointed despite herself. "I suppose I've given my dear brother too much credit. I should have known better."

"Maybe he died," says Mai, a tone of indifference. On Ji throws her a surprised look and Mai shrugs. "Maybe they're holding off the canons until after the peace offering."

"No, I'm certain he's very much alive," says Azula. She exhales an aggravated breath, drumming her nails. "He's much too prideful to keep hidden for long." She smiles a little then, a very pretty, yet frightening sort of smile. "Honor is what my brother wants. And the only way he'll get it is if he faces me and he knows it. We don't need to search for him—he will come to us."

"And when he does, I'll slit his royal little throat," says Chan, with vengeance. He's so big I can't believe a single chair holds his weight.

"_No_." Azula's voice is sharp, giving no room for debate. "Zuko is mine."

An elbow to my rib breaks me away from the Fire tributes and I glance at Sokka. "What?" I ask.

"What'd you hear?" he asks in a whisper.

Good. So he isn't as engaged into the food as he appears.

"Nothing really," I say, just low enough for him to hear. "Azula wondering about Zuko."

"She angry?"

I throw a glance at her swiftly before looking back to Sokka. "No. Just disappointed, I think."

"He's probably too scared to face her."

"I don't know," I say, "but I'm sure he has a plan."

"You think so?"

"I think we'd be stupid to assume he doesn't."

After our meal Qin Lee starts calling us over one at a time to the "interviewing area." It's nothing more than two stools in front of several Guards holding Watchers, the white hot flames dancing behind the setup. As I wait for my turn, I have a sense of déjà vu. The last time I was interviewed by Qin Lee, I was one of twenty four. Now, I'm one of fifteen. Somehow this thought leaves me both relieved and sad. Nine lives that was lost to this Game. Nine girls and boys who won't be going back home.

"Katara, you're up."

Sokka gives me a little push. I blink and walk over to Qin Lee, shocked my turn is up already. I must have zoned out through all the interviews so far. Then again, there weren't that many in front of me anymore. When I take my seat, Qin Lee greets me with a welcoming smile and I barely offer one in return. Time for smiling is in the past.

"We're here again with Katara, tribute of Province Nine," says Qin Lee, addressing the Guards holding Watchers. He turns back to me with another smile. "It is so very good to see you again, Katara."

"Thanks," I say, smiling a little so I don't look completely morbid. "You too."

"I remember asking you about forming an alliance with your brother," says Qin Lee, and I know he's saying this to benefit the audience, "and it seems you stuck to your word. How did it feel finally finding your brother?"

"It was a huge relief," I reply. "I was very worried about him."

"Do you think your chances are higher with him by your side?"

"Definitely."

"Now I have to ask," says Qin Lee, tucking his chin like he's about to say something secretive, "we all want to know what you were thinking when you so bravely saved the phoenix's egg."

"You saw that?" I ask, playing dumb.

"My dear, the entire Fire Nation saw it!" Qin Lee gushes. "It was spectacular! What was going on inside your head?"

For a moment, I pause. Should I be honest? More importantly, what _was_ the honest answer? Did I save the egg so the mother could be free with her baby? _Yes_, I think automatically. Or did I save it to save my brother and the others, because I knew the phoenix would attack them to protect its baby? Yes again. Such a complicated answer for such a simple question. I'm not even sure which answer is more accurate and quite frankly, I don't want to bother explaining all my theories.

"I did what I had to save my brother," I settle on saying. Inside my head, I hear Pakku screaming at me for my icy reasoning, so I add, "And I thought the phoenix, our nations' bird, should have her baby back."

_There_, I think. Logical and sympathetic. Pakku can't argue with that.

Qin Lee looks satisfied. "I admire your bravery, Katara. I believe you won over many at the Capital and I'm sure many from around the world with your act of courage. Thank you for your time, and good luck with the rest of the Games!"

I leave a little breathless, shocked by Qin Lee's last words. I won over many at the Capital? That's news to me. Part me thinks Pakku will be angry, saying that I drew attention to myself when I needed to lie low. I couldn't really help it, though. I had no choice in the matter. Pakku would have to get over it.

When I walk back to the rest of the tributes, everyone is staring at me. Great. They must have overheard and are curious about the phoenix. Of course they wouldn't know about it—they aren't watching like the rest of the world. Azula in particular eyes me with interest, and I feel my cheeks blush. I put my head down and walk over to Sokka and Aang, both of which are setting up our bedrolls. I take a seat on one of them; feel the spring of the cot it rests on with pleasure. Not having to sleep on the ground for a night is worth the trouble it took to get here.

Even though there's an area marked off for sleeping, Sokka has moved our cots to the furthest end, away from where the Fire tributes are sitting, huddled together. Every so often they turn and look over at us, and it makes me very uneasy.

"You should get some rest," says Sokka, patting down his pillow.

"I'm not going to sleep," I say.

"You have to sleep," Aang insists. "You're exhausted—I can see it on your face."

He's right, but it doesn't matter. I make sure to lower my voice. "We can't afford to be this close to the Fire tributes and weaken ourselves by sleeping. Not to remind you all of what Suki did to Longshot."

"They can't attack us at the Base," Sokka reassures me, though he flinched at the mention of Longshot. "Azula isn't that stupid anyway."

Part of me—and maybe it's because she's related to Zuko—can't imagine Azula attacking at someone while they're asleep. Whether it's her pride or honor, I think she'll attack when we expect it. She'll want to beat us, knowing we gave everything we had, and knowing it isn't enough. Her followers however, I'm not so sure. Chan definitely strikes me as someone who will sneak into the night and slit somebody's throat. Like Suki. Same with Jiro, with his pointed features and slim body, that so much remind me of a snake.

I shift in my cot and watch Suki, another threat we have to worry about. She's off on her own cot, curled away from the rest of us. I don't think she's sleeping, even though she appears to be. Sokka keeps throwing her glares, as though she can see them. She's been relatively quiet ever since Azula walked over to her after the interview. I couldn't catch the words that transpired between the pair, but I did see how irritated Azula looked when she walked back to her gang.

"Look what I got," says Smellerbee, plunking down on a cot. She holds out a bow made of dark wood. "Can't believe no one snagged it. Longshot would far better but I'll put it to good use." She glances over to Suki, eyes darkening.

"Don't even think about it," I say. "You'll have your chance but right now isn't it."

"Yeah, that patience crap doesn't work with me."

"It will or you'll face the Elites," I say, sternly. "Do you really want that?"

"Of course she doesn't," says Jet. He scoots his cot closer to our group. I'm glad we're out of earshot to the other tributes at this point, though I still feel on edge with all of us being together. "Justice will be served, no matter how long I have to wait for it."

"You mean revenge," says Aang. "Not justice."

"Same thing," Jet argues.

"No, it's not." Aang shakes his head, a sad gesture that ages him at least ten years. "The monks say that revenge is like a two headed rat viper. While you watch your enemy go down, you're being poisoned yourself."

Jet looks at him, bewildered. "Are you saying you don't think the Capital should get what they deserve?"

I flinch, not at his words, but at how out in the open he states them. There are Watchers on us, recording this night. The last thing we need is the Capital targeting us personally for Jet's vendetta.

"I'm saying it's not really my place to say who deserves what," says Aang. "Revenge isn't the answer. It won't solve anything."

"Yeah, well, if you'd seen the things I have you wouldn't be thinking that," says Jet, shaking his head. "I'm going to sleep."

Without another word, his back is turned to us. All I can think about as I stare up at the stars is what exactly he meant, by the things he's _seen_.

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><p>When the gong rings out, I know two things for sure: one, I fell asleep when I said I wouldn't. Damn it. Two, we need to get out of here now. Within less than five seconds I'm on my feet, fastening my satchel and water skin. I already have a bedroll, and even though this one is so much more comfortable, there's no time.<p>

Sokka and Aang are up too, Smellerbee and Jet gathering our supplies. The white fire is gone, which means we are free to leave. Except nothing is really _free_ in these Games. Something will be waiting for us just outside the boundaries, I'm sure of it.

I don't bother checking to see if the other tributes are scurrying away, but rather take off into the safety of the forest. I get about thirty feet before I'm under attack. The first thing I notice is a flash of pink and then _smack! _I'm stumbling backward, a hand pressed to my face. It's Ty Lee, hands out in a fighting stance. She strikes out again, hitting me in the stomach. _She's quick_, I think. When she swings a third time I'm expecting it, and I pull the water from my water skin and knock her backwards.

She lets out a little noise of surprise and springs into the trees. I watch her swing from the branches in awe when something sharp grazes my cheek. _What is with these people and hitting in the face?_ I think wildly, dodging Mai's knives the second time. I hear Sokka and Jet behind me, swords clashing with bits of steel. Chan is using two long, wide swords, one in each hand. Flames encircle the blades, and with every swing he bends the fire toward Sokka and Jet. Jiro doesn't bother with swords, but uses his Firebending to press his advantage.

I start to move toward them, when something catches my ankle and I fall, rolling onto my back. I look up and Ty Lee springs from the tree, ready to land on top of me—and a huge wall of rock springs before me, stopping Ty Lee from crushing me. I scream despite myself, the rock hovering inches above my body, and then the rock shatters into thousands of bits, raining down on me.

I scramble to my feet, glancing wildly around. The rock had to be Haru, but I don't see him anywhere, and I don't even know why he'd do it. I don't see any of the Earth tributes, actually. Only Fire, and our little group. Aang and Smellerbee are warding off Mai, deflecting her daggers. The only ones missing are Azula and On Ji.

"Katara, go!" Sokka shouts, slicing toward Chan with a sword. "I'll catch up!"

"I won't leave you!"

Ty Lee is back on her feet, looking a little dazed. She must have hit the rock pretty hard. She shakes her head and lunges for me, this time a little less gracefully. I throw up a wave of water, knocking her backwards. I pull all the water from my water skin to my aid, forming a ball, and trap Ty Lee within it. Concentrating, I lift my hands up, hardening the water to ice. I look up and see Ty Lee's shocked expression, frozen in the ice—

And then it shatters, an arrow piercing through the ice. I look up and see On Ji in the trees, a bow and arrow in hand, her expression shockingly fierce. She pulls another arrow back again and I jump out of the way. A flash of blue somewhere in the trees alerts of Azula's presence, and that's when I start to move quickly. Something is occupying her right now, and I need to take advantage of that. I don't get far though, because something trips me again. Ty Lee is on top of me now, pinning me down. Our hands lock, and it's a sudden battle of strength as I try to push her off me.

"It's really too bad," Ty Lee grits, "your brother is so cute."

"What?" I blink, bewildered, and shove her off me with a grunt.

I shake off her strange comment and get to my feet. An arrow zips by, barely missing my face. I block Ty Lee's punches but she suddenly swings up a leg and nails me in the shoulder. I stumble back, and then my eyes catch something black darting through the shadows. _I know that shadow_, I think, and then I see him. Azula's distraction.

Zuko jumps into the frenzy, fists balled into flame. He shoots bursts of fire toward Chan and Jiro, following up with a roundhouse kick of fire that knocks Jiro to the ground. Zuko pulls out his swords, and like Chan, manages to bend the fire onto the blade. Zuko moves quicker, but Chan is brute strength. He manages to clip Zuko under the chin, forcing Zuko's face in the direction of my sight. Our eyes meet, and time stands still. Right at that moment, I realize my mistake. Too late. Ty Lee moves so fast I can't even defend myself in my hesitation.

Her hands go out and hit my neck, my shoulder, my back. A sort of tingling sensation surges through me—I can't decide if it's pleasurable or painful—before I slam to the ground. Hard. Someone screams, which confuses me in my daze. Shouldn't I be the one screaming?

The world starts to fade of color, the edges of the map darkening and burning. The last thing I see is a flash of blue fire. The last thing I hear is a canon.

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><p><strong>AN: I'll update the next chapter with the tribute list, letting you ponder over who died at the end of this one. :P I do have a plan for Toph, my patient readers. BIG plans. Just wait. ;)**

**Question time!**

**arianaD: "Why would Hakoda watch the games if his children were in them?"** - I think it would be hard for him not to watch. It might be the last time he ever "sees" his children at all. There's also that impulse people have to watch the horrible and tragic.

**mikoamaya-hikari: "I was really disappointed because it strongly hints that you really are going to have only one victor."** - All I can really say is be open to anything. I really think the ending will shock everyone. It's not a very expected ending..lol so I wouldn't try to figure it out just yet. :P I will also say don't freak out until the end of the sequel..that's when it's officially the end.

**LookMeInTheStars: "How many chapters are you expecting this to turn out to be?"**- I'm thinking..20-30. In that range somewhere.

**AvidReader4EVR: "Is Zuko the winner? What happens to Katara?"** - Or is Toph the winner? Or Sokka? Or Mai? You never know what characters/ships I have planned for the sequel. :D

**Zuma12121: "i thought this was a Zutara romance! what the hell is this about them all dying?"** - Haha I did warn all of you that there are A LOT of deaths. :P There will be romance, I promise, but this isn't a pure romance fic. The romance won't be fluffy, because one, I'm sorry but in my world Zuko isn't fluffy and two, this story isn't fluffy. But there must be trust before romance. One step at a time. We'll get there!

**Just Nine Letters: "Does Aang have or will he have a little crush on Katara?"** - I suppose, sort of. He definitely thinks she's pretty and admires and respects her.

**sparkling unicorn: "But anyways when is Zuko coming back?"** - Next chapter. ;)

**Onba: "Ah, so Azula's team made it there first. I have a feeling thinks are unevenly tipped in her favor."** - They aren't, actually. Being royalty and the Capital's tribute, and the only one who scored a 12, she has A LOT of sponsors who send her everything. You'll see more about her little camp in future chapters. Not to mention Azula has a way to make people follow her orders. :P

**Character Q/A**

**"Katara: if you, Sokka, and Aang were all eliminated from the Games, who would you want to win?"** - Toph, definitely.

**"Zuko, does it affect you in any way to see how close of a relationship Katara and Sokka share compared to you and your sister?"** - I don't understand it...their relationship.

**"Mai, what was life like for you before the games? Did you EVER expect to be "chosen"?"** - Life was boring. And I don't think anyone expects their name to be drawn from the reaping.

**"Jet, did you leave anybody back home that's helping encouraging you in the Games?"** - My "family" at the hostel.

**"Aang - Knowing you're going to have to kill someone at some point, do you have any strategies at all?"** - I'm...hoping I can survive the way my mentor did, without violence.

**"Aang, do you think you are going to win this?"** - I don't know..I'd like to, obviously.


	16. Blood and Honor

**A/N:** I'm going to leave the poll open for the **bonus scene** for one more chapter update duraction so **GO VOTE**! Remember it's located on my **DeviantArt page**, and the link can be found in **my profile.** ;) This is a super fast update but I'm afraid the next will be a bit longer. :P Enjoy!

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><p>"And things that give deep passions are your sword.<br>Rules and regulations have no meaning anymore." - _Hearts on Fire_, John Cafferty

**Chapter 15 - Blood and Honor**

The warmth of the sun beating on my face wakes me and I have to blink repeatedly in attempt to clear my cloudy vision. All I see is a haze of green, beams of golden light streaking through. Something is pounding in my ears so intensely that I immediately start shuffling, hoping movement will somehow get rid of the noises.

I flinch. Something tight pulls against my wrists. I blink again, forcing details to come into view. The haze of green is trees, tall and leafy, obscuring the view of the sky. Only now do I realize I'm sitting down, and no matter how much I move, I can't go anywhere. I can't stand up. I can't even move my arms.

Because they're tied behind my back. Around a tree.

Now my mind is starting to function properly and my vision is definitely clear enough to take in my surroundings. These woods don't look familiar. The trees are taller, more leafy; the trunks thicker. The only sound besides my rapid breathing is a hum of insects.

I look up and squint at the brightness. Judging by the sun, it's around midday, the perfect time of day for a Firebender. I might be outside, but it feels like I'm trapped in a cage, the walls closing in on me. I immediately think of my friend Akita who was tied to a tree and burned alive a couple years ago.

Panicking, I begin to thrash against the binds holding me. My head's still pounding and the annoying ringing is still there but I can't worry about that now.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

I freeze. An odd sense of relief and terror washes over me. Relief because I'm not alone, and terror because of that same reason.

My head whirls wildly until I lock eyes with Prince Zuko. He's leaning against a tree as still as a statue, arms crossed, partially hidden by the shadows. Just seeing him sends my mind back to a flash of colorful pictures. And yet, I can't put the pieces together. I hardly remember anything concrete. What had happened after the peace offering? It seems like a blur of color and movement. What happened with the Fire tributes? Did Azula show up? Was Sokka alive? How did I get here?

I wince, my head pounding even harder. I should ask him these things but the pain in my head takes me on another route and instead I ask, "Why not?"

"Because you hit your head pretty hard," he says to me.

Did I? Well, that explains the horrible pounding. He's saying something else but my mind is reeling. Obviously this can't be the same place as earlier fight because there's nothing familiar about this place. My memory works enough to know I've never seen these trees before. Someone must have dragged me away and—

"Did you do this?" I demand suddenly, cutting him off mid-sentence.

He closes his mouth, and scowls. "Do what?"

"Tie me to this tree!"

His golden eyes narrow—probably because princes are never interrupted, no doubt—and he pushes himself off the tree, moving closer to me.

"I did," he admits, not at all regretful or apologetic.

I stare at him, horrified. "Why?"

"Would you rather I kill you?"

"Of course not!" I clamp my mouth shut, furious. "What happened?"

He towers over me, draping me in shadow. He starts to lean down. For a moment my hopes soar, and I think he's going to untie me, but he simply bends down and scoops up a canteen. It makes me thirsty just seeing it.

"Doesn't matter," he says. He takes a quick drink from the canteen before stuffing it into his knapsack. "You saved me, I saved you. We're even."

"You didn't save me!"

He glares down at me, eyes glowing with fury. Blood is smeared under his right eye and his arms are stained with dirt and bloody scrapes. Whatever had happened, he didn't come out unscathed.

"Yes, I did," he says, in a low, controlled voice. "How else do you think you got out of that mess and got your head bandaged?"

My eyes shoot upward stupidly, like I can somehow see my head from this angle. I wish I could inspect the wound myself but...Oh wait, my hands are tied! I have a sudden vision of Zuko carrying me through the woods; a helpless, weak looking girl in his arms. My face flames and my stomach twists in discomfort. I'm not the type of girl that needs saving and I don't want anyone to think of me that way.

When I do nothing more than stare at him like a gaping fish, trying to come up with a retort to all of _that_, he tosses something on my lap. A quick glance down reveals my satchel that I've had since day one. I can't check to see if he's taken anything, though, and feel a wave of bitterness wash over me.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" I ask, incredulous.

"Whatever you wish," he says, fastening two sleek, silver daggers around his belt. "It's your stuff."

"Did you take anything?"

"Why don't you just check for yourself?"

"I can't!" I snap angrily. "You tied me up!"

"Yeah, good luck with that." I catch a slight glimmer on his face, a conceited gesture, before he turns and starts to walk away. Now, I really begin to panic.

"Where are you going?" I demand, digging my feet into the dirt in the hopes that it will somehow free me. Damn he knows how to tie knots.

"I thought these Games were obvious," he says, glancing back. All I can do is stare at him in disbelief, trying to formulate some kind of sense into this madness. "I'm going after the other tributes. I'm sparing you for the moment because killing you while you're so helpless and weak would be dishonorable, not to mention I was indebted to you from the cave. But don't think when we meet again that I won't kill you."

"So you're just going to leave me here?" I can't control the anger and hysteria in my voice. I immediately see a mental image of Azula finding me, tied to a tree, unable to fight. Completely helpless. I know I have to sink to a desperate level to get out of this mess. Zuko's already walking away as I shout,

"Aren't princes supposed to be noble, no matter the cirumstance?" I question, loud enough that it resounds around the forest. "And here you are, the sole heir to the throne of the entire Fire Nation, abandoning a helpless girl— who I might add, saved your _life _when she could have left you behind—and leaving her tied to a tree like bait! Tell me, what does your precious _honor_ say about that?"

His walking slows, and he finally stops, going rigid all over. There has to be Watcher's recording this very moment. My slam of Zuko's honor would surely be echoing around the world. If there was one way to get through to him, this had to be the way: public humiliation and questioning his honor.

I stare at his back for what feels like an eternity before he finally makes a move. He curses something under his breath and turns around, glaring at me. I breathe out a small sigh of relief despite the threatening look he bears down on me. None too gently, Zuko slices the bindings on my wrists with a dagger, nearly cutting me in the process, which I'm pretty sure was his intention.

I twist a little, stretching my sore back, and examine my aching arms. Bruises are already forming from the bindings around my wrists, dried blood sticking to my skin. Suddenly something occurs to me and my stomach drops. Zuko starts walking away without a word, and that's when I stand up and blurt,

"Is he alive?" My voice sounds strangled, even to my own ears. "Sokka. I remember a canon shot."

"That was the guy from Five." Zuko pauses, his back to me. "Your brother killed him."

Normally, that would have shocked me into silence, but now my worry was so tenfold it barely fazed me. "Is Sokka alive?" I asked again, this time more fiercely.

"I don't know, probably." Zuko glances at me over his shoulder, a curious kind of look. "You do realize if you want to win, he'll have to die, right? Wouldn't you rather him die out of your sight than in it?"

"I don't want him to die at all," I say immediately. I know it sounds stupid but I can't help it. Part of me doesn't even know if winning is worth it, if I have to lose Sokka.

"Then you might as well let me kill you now." Zuko turns completely to face me. A feathery fog swirls around his feet, and the light streaming in between the trees catches the smooth side of his face. Not for the first time, I wonder how he'd look without his scar. Less menacing, I expect. "You don't deserve to win if you can't do what it takes to do it."

I stare at him, shocked. "You're saying you don't care that you might have to kill your own sister?"

Zuko's face is completely blank, unreadable. "I'm saying I can do whatever it takes to win this. I can't say the same for you."

"Well, if killing my own brother means doing 'whatever it takes,' I'll gladly say I'm inadequate," I say, with a bitter laugh.

"Inadequate and weak," Zuko clarifies.

My temper flares. "I'm not weak!"

"Then you better prove it."

The words echo in my head, reminding me of the time Pakku told me to prove that I wasn't scared and afraid. Zuko turns on me and disappears through the trees. I stare after him a moment before snatching my satchel and take off in the same direction, muttering "Watch me" under my breath.

After about ten minutes of me following in silence, Zuko sighs.

"What are you doing?" he asks, without turning around. I don't even bother keeping my steps quiet—pretty sure I can't sneak up on him even if I wanted to. His hearing seems to be better than mine, and that's saying something.

"I'm going to find my brother," I answer.

Zuko stops, fists clenching. "No."

"Yes, I am," I argue, a little thrown by his sudden animosity.

"No, I mean, you're not coming with me."

I hadn't thought of it that way at all. I was looking for Sokka, and I was sort of following Zuko at the same time. When I took off after him, it was sort of instinctual, like I wanted to prove something to him. Now, I didn't know how I could. Or why I wanted to for the matter.

_You're not coming with me. _

Suddenly those words light up inside my mind, an idea forming. A mad, impossible idea. The kind of idea that could change everything as I know it. _You can't win big without taking big risks_, my dad would always say to us. I wonder if he'd say the same now if he knew my idea.

"You can't do this alone," I say, finally. "I know you're going after your sister and the other Fire tributes but you can't do it alone."

He scowls. "Don't underestimate me. That will be your first and last mistake."

"I'm not," I assure him, quickly, "but there are five of them and one of you. Two known Firebenders—I won't even comment on Azula's _blue_ fire and ability—, two long range fighters, and a girl who is nearly impossible to beat in hand to hand combat. How can you possibly take them all down alone?"

His mouth starts working but he says nothing, turning away from me. I can feel heat radiating off him in waves.

I snort, despite the seriousness of the situation. "You never think things through, do you?"

"You sound like my uncle."

"Good, sounds like a smart man."

He glances at me sharply out of the corner of his eye. His expression morphs into something of frustration and he takes off again, like I somehow annoy him so much he can't possibly talk to me without walking at the same time.

"Azula and her followers rely on their camp," he says, and I have to jog to catch back up to him. "They have so many sponsors sending them stuff that it's practically a fortress. Destroy that and they'll fall apart one by one."

I hadn't heard anything of their camp, but I guess it makes sense. Why the Fire tributes look so clean and healthy. They must have a gold mine of stuff keeping them alive and well. Luxury beds, warm food, healing remedies. Bitterness washes over me again.

"Have you been there?" I ask. "Where is it?"

"I've seen it," he says, his tone guarded. He shoots me a sidelong glance. "Now stop following me."

"I just happen to be going in the same direction as you," I reason. "You might be a _Prince_, but you aren't the Lord of this arena."

"Look." He moves so quickly I don't see it coming. He grabs my upper arm roughly and shakes me once to get my attention. "This is the part where we go our separate ways. You think you can help me—I have no idea why you'd want to when I told you I'll kill you—but you can't. And even if you _could_, I don't want it. You're a liability. You're too involved with other tributes on a personal level, and you'll only slow me down or get in my way. Go find your brother and those other weaklings but leave me alone. If you keep testing my patience, you're going to see just how far my _honor_ goes before it snaps."

He releases me slowly, hesitantly, as though I might attack him. I'm too stunned to do anything, though. For some reason I feel like I've just been slapped. I can't even fathom a response. He gives me a satisfied look, like he's relieved he's finally gotten his point across, and walks away with purpose and confidence in every step. He gets about fifteen feet when my shock turns to anger.

"You really are a true Prince of the Capital," I say, storming after him, "aren't you? Selfish. Deceitful. A prince without honor or morals."

Everything happened so fast I can't even scream in alarm. He spins abruptly, catching the front of my robes and presses the blade of a dagger to my throat. "Do not make the mistake of pretending you know me," he hisses. "You know _nothing_ of our world, nothing outside your little frigid and pathetic province you call a home."

Instinct takes over. He's so focused on his radiating anger toward me that he doesn't realize my hand snaked toward his belt and grabbed his other dagger. I press it to his chest, my other hand knotting in his tunic. His eyes flick down at my applied pressue, showing a little surprise, before they flash back to mine.

"And whose fault is it that it's frigid and pathetic?" I ask quietly. "Whose fault is it that we have barely enough food to survive, barely enough clothes to keep us warm?"

Zuko says nothing, pressing the dagger deeper into my skin. I do the same, digging the blade hard enough to pierce through his shirt. He doesn't flinch, but his gaze is smoldering.

"I'd cut out your heart, if only you had one," I hiss, my tone unfamiliar and low and cold. I tighten my hold on the dagger when he lifts his blade higher, forcing my chin up. "Think wisely, Prince. You say my weakness is my personal feelings toward others. Well, I have nothing personal for you. Spilling your blood means nothing to me."

We stand like that for several long, tense moments, a hand gripping the other, a dagger pressing against flesh. I swallow hard, the blade following the movement in a stinging pain. I'm almost positive he's broken the skin. Zuko's staring down at me with molten gold fire swirling in his eyes, and I'm transported back to the cave: who will make the first move?

"I should probably just kill you now," he says, his tone taking on a rougher edge to it.

"You probably should," I agree.

I can feel the rise and fall of his chest, his steady heart beat. He's completely in control, though the darkness in his eyes concerns me, letting me know an uncontrollable fire is burning somewhere inside him. I know deep down his reaction timing is quicker than mine. I stand little chance at survival if he decides to make a move. I brace myself for sweet kiss of his blade, for my last breath in this world, but it never comes. Maybe he's weighing the options: to kill me, not to kill me. Taking advantage of the silence, I press on,

"All I want to do is find my brother. If you help me find him, I'll help you destroy Azula's camp. If I help, Sokka helps. And Aang, Jet, and Smellerbee if they're alive and with him. As a strategist, you can't deny that I'm not useful."

"Such delicate words with my dagger pressed to your throat," he says, voice raspy and low.

"You're just angry because I'm right," I challenge. "Why bother fighting each other now when we can save that for later? And when now, we might actually be useful to each other?"

His grip on the dagger doesn't falter, but I feel the blade pull back a little, only a light pressing against flesh now.

"Your word isn't enough," he says, finally.

"Then what do you want?" I ask, genuinely a little hurt. I know we're in the Black Games and honesty means next to nothing, but it still hurts for someone to say your word isn't enough. _Great_, I think, _now I sound like him_. "How can I prove it?"

His eyes sweep me over in a flash. "Your token."

"My what?"

"The one thing you brought from home," he clarifies. "It has to mean something to you. You'll get it back once we reach Azula's camp, that way if you turn against me, I'll at least have others against you as well."

For the first time since entering the Games, I'm glad I didn't take my mother's necklace. While Yue's necklace is valuable, I still haven't figured out how to make the special healing water appear. Part of me suspected Yue was kidding, but I guess it really won't appear until I need it most.

Zuko stares at me in silent questioning and yes, a little challenging. I can hear Pakku's voice in my head. _They will turn on you the moment the opportunity arises. They're the Fire Lord's flesh and blood. _Would Zuko turn on me the moment the opportunity arises? I honestly didn't know. He was questioning my word, but why should I trust his?

"Alright," I agree. "But I want collateral, too."

"My word isn't enough?" he asks, the same sort of hurt in his voice that I heard in mine earlier. Funny, even in these circumstances, we're both offended our honor is questioned.

"If mine isn't, neither is yours," I say. "Spare me your speech about royalty and promises. We're all equals in this game."

"I can't give you mine," he says, tensing, the dagger cutting deeper into my skin once more. I wince at the stinging sensation.

"Then I can't give you mine, either."

"Mine is too valuable," he says, his gaze far away, "and not just to me."

Curiosity gets the better of me. "What is it?"

Finally, slowly, he lowers his dagger, and I immediately do the same, bringing a hand to my throat. I feel warm liquid cake my fingers. Blood. He actually cut me, the jerk. I don't think I was pressing hard enough to actually cut through his skin but now I wish I had. I nearly snarl out a rude insult but the glimmer of gold catches my attention first.

Sitting in the palm of Zuko's hand is a two-pronged crown, made of solid gold. I've never seen anything so shiny, the way it catches the sunlight and sparkles. This crown probably cost more to make than my entire province.

"The crown of the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation." Zuko's voice catches my attention more than the crown. Underneath his usual raspy tone is something more. Yearning. Need. Devotion. Suddenly I don't want to take it from him anymore, but he holds it out carefully, as though it were extremely heavy or fragile. "If this doesn't prove my word, I don't know what does."

"Zuko, I —" He looks up when I say his name, as though he had forgotten it. I hang my head, now feeling ashamed.

He had brought with him his most prized possession: his crown. I can see how much it means to him, can hear it in his voice, and here I am, exchanging it for Yue's necklace when I should have my mother's instead. I'm demanding he give up a piece of his soul, when I'm giving a silly, pretty necklace in return. I guess I should feel relieved this trade is by far in my favor but it doesn't seem fair. It makes me feel shallow and cold and wrong.

Zuko looks at me with a questioning look, still holding out the crown for me to take. I give a little sigh and shake my head.

"I can't take that from you," I say, with reluctance, the strategic part of me screaming at my heart to stop being so soft. "I trust you."

"Don't." His fingers curl around the rim of the crown and he pushes it into my hands.

He looks away, and I swear his clenched fists are smoking at his side. Shaken, I place the crown as gently as I can in my satchel. I hand him back his dagger, a little awkwardly, and then withdraw my necklace. The tiny tear-drop shaped amulet catches the light, glimmering like a fallen star. Of course, it's still empty. I hand it to him a little reluctantly.

"Don't lose it," I say, unnecessarily. "It's…valuable."

"I can see that," he says. He examines it closely a moment, as though very interested, before sliding it over his head and tucking it out of sight. I wonder briefly if I'll ever see it again. "Was it a gift?"

I nod. "From a friend."

He raises a brow at me. "A _boy_ friend?"

"No!" My face flushes and I look away. I've never had a boyfriend and just talking about it makes me uncomfortable.

"Doesn't your province do the whole betrothal necklace thing?" he asks. "Isn't that what this is?"

"You seem very informed," I note dryly. "But that's not what a betrothal necklace looks like. They're not as elaborate or shiny. Simple. A single stone carved from a moonstone. But they're still as beautiful and meaningful."

"Sounds like you already have one."

"I do," I say, "but it was my mother's."

"Oh," he says, quietly.

The word drops between us in an uncomfortable silence. I don't know what he's thinking, but my heart plunges. All I have of my mother is a parka—that I might never get back—and a necklace—that I may never see again.

When Zuko looks back at me, his expression is much softer. He reaches out a hand, and instinct makes me flinch back. He shoots me a look, his gold eyes so intense that I stand very still. He reaches out again, hesitantly, like I might bite him. More gently than I thought possible for him, he runs a thumb across my throat. I stiffen, my heart pounding, and when he removes his thumb, it's stained crimson.

"That's deeper than I thought. You should clean and wrap it," he says in a detached voice. He doesn't say it, but I catch guilt flicker across his face before it goes blank. I know this is the only form of an apology I'll get. I don't really expect one, anyway. This is a game, and pain is part of the rules. I only wish I had cut him, too.

"I'll be fine."

He frowns. "It could get infected and then you'd be no use to me."

"Well, in _that_ case..."

With a resigned sigh, I shift through my bag and pull out the minor healing medicine. While I clean the wound the best I can—it's kind of hard without being able to see what I'm doing—Zuko's back is to me and he's gone very stiff. He has a way of standing so still he could be carved from stone.

When I stand back up, I can't help but think that normally my throat is wrapped in the comforting color of blue, of my home. My mother's old necklace, resembling love and passion. And now it's wrapped in a blood stained cloth, the color of the Capital, resembling pain and loss.

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><p><strong>AN: **This is my favorite chapter so far. =) It took me awhile to figure out Zuko's token. I debated between a few things, but a certain plot idea hit me and it had to be his crown. #secretplans

_Review Responses:_

**Justice333: "I'm pretty sure aang is going to have the rue like death..."** - Everyone keeps thinking that, haha. You'll just have to wait and see. :P

**AnaAza: "Azula is a bitch. She's worse than Cato and Clove put together!"** - Whoa, worse than Cato AND Clove? Maybe you're right, haha.

**Anonymous: "I really hope (an I know that it's terrible to say) that Azula will win the Games."** - Not terrible at all. Azula is one of my favorite characters, actually. :P By far one of the best written in the actual series.

_Character Q/A:_

**"Zuko, what is going through your mind as "time stands still?"** - My mind went blank.

**"Katara, what is going through your mind as "time stands still?"** - I wonder if we're about to die.

**"Zuko, deep down in your heart do you have any love for Azula or do you just see her as a competition?"** - Azula has and always will be my biggest competition. There's no room for love in these games.

**"Aang: how do you expect to win if you can't kill anybody. People aren't just going to disappear you know. What's your strategy?"** - Monk Gyatso says the way to succeed is by taking care of yourself and letting everyone else poison themselves and others. The victor doesn't have to kill. They just have to be the last one standing.

**"Zuko, if you were forced into forming a partnership in the games, who would you chose to fight alongside you?"** - For talent, Azula. For loyality, Katara.

**"Anyone, what would you want to do if you win?"** Run away and never go back. (Toph)

**"Azula, what is your current strategy to win?"** - You are in no position to demand such tedious information.

**The Emerald Doe:** You mentioned Katara twice, so I was confused, haha. Rephrase and I'll answer!

_List of Alive Tributes (that we know of in this chapter)_

**Province 1 - Azula and Zuko**

**Province 2 - Mai and Chan**

**Province 3 - On Ji**

**Province 5 - Ty Lee**

**Province 6 - Jet**

**Province 7 - Haru and Smellerbee**

**Province 8 - Toph and Matsu**

**Province 9 - Katara and Sokka**

**Province 11 - Aang**

**Province 12 - Suki**


	17. Does This Darkness Have An End?

**A/N:** The results are in and the winning scene for the bonus is: a snippet of Zuko when he's allowed visitors after he's chosen for the Games. Thanks for voting! ;) The next bonus chapter will be when we reach 400 reviews. If we do, that is, haha. Enjoy the chapter!

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><p>"Time takes it all, time bears it away, and in the end there is only darkness.<p>

Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again." - _Stephen King_

**Chapter 16 - Does This Darkness Have An End?**

_I can't breathe. _

_Hot, burning flames are closing in from everywhere and nowhere at once, drowning me, consuming me completely. I shout for my dad, for my brother, for anyone that can help me. My hands stretch out, as though I can somehow navigate through the smoke. The ground is stained black, ash covering every square inch and surface, staining my skin the same color. I can hear shouting, children crying, the sounds of panic and terror. _

_It's so crowded and yet no one can hear me. No one sees me suffocating, choking, hurting. I shout out again, but it's not my voice. It's very similar yet very different. Too sing-song like to be my own. It wasn't me shouting at all, actually. I'm the one crying, lost in the darkness._

_Does this darkness have an end or am I forever lost in it?_

The dream ends and I wake up screaming. My vision is blurry and I can't see anything, which only frightens me more. It isn't until a hand covers my mouth and I'm shaken firmly by the arm that I start to really _see_. My eyes blink away the tears, focusing on what's really in front of me, not the illusion of smoke and fire. I see a pair of liquid gold eyes, staring at me with such intensity that I can't do anything but stare back. Zuko's other hand is gripping my upper arm, and it's all that keeps me from collapsing.

"Are you hurt?" Zuko asks, very slowly, as though I am a small, scared child. A hand is still pressed over my mouth, so I simply shake my head _no_. "Just a nightmare?"

I shake my head again. This time a tear leaks out.

"It's not real." His tone is gentle, calmer than I've ever heard. Oddly comforting as much as disconcerting.

I nod, trembling.

"Are you going to scream again?"

Another silent _no_.

"I'm going to let go now."

When he does, my shoulders slump forward. I bring my knees to my chest and bury my face. I want nothing more than to hide forever. I'm too consumed by the grief of my nightmare to care about how weak I look. There are times when I can be strong, but for some reason this familiar nightmare rips me apart—and tonight had been one of the worst episodes I've had in awhile.

_I miss my dad. I want my brother_. The feeling is so overwhelming it nearly chokes me. I can feel Zuko's gaze on me, smothering me. I wonder what he's thinking. I wonder if I care. We sit in silence for awhile.

"Do you have nightmares a lot?" he finally asks, very quietly.

"Same one," I say, giving a tremble of a sigh. I look up, blinking. "Always the same one."

I don't bother adding that I don't _always_ wake up screaming. Or that Sokka never leaves me in the morning, just in case I do. I don't bother trying to explain what the nightmares mean, because I don't know myself. I just wish they'd stop.

"I guess we'll have to tie something over your mouth when you sleep from now on," says Zuko. I can tell how uncomfortable he is just by his tone. "You scared me—I thought we were under attack."

This brings a laugh out of me and I wipe under my eyes. "I don't always wake up like that."

"Good to know."

I settle back into my bedroll, the tightness in my chest deflating. Not exactly the comfort I get from Sokka or my dad, but I can breathe again. There's no fire. No smoke. It was a nightmare, and even though that's an ironic statement considering where I am, I can rest assured that as of right now, I most certainly am safe.

Zuko suggests from now on one of us stays awake, that way if we really _are_ under attack, we'll be prepared. I feel stupid for not suggesting it earlier, especially after what happened with Longshot. We're tucked away in a crevice of rock, almost like a cave, so we're hidden from the woods. I would still feel more comfortable up in the trees, but it started raining just before we made camp. Zuko says Azula won't bother hiking through the rain so I guess I have to believe him.

Still, sleeping on the ground makes me edgy. Zuko sits at the mouth of the cave and I stare at his back until I drift off to sleep.

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><p>I find out very quickly that the prince is an early riser, and his methods of waking me are less than pleasant. I also find out that he can set up snares even better than me. Early the next morning we eat in silence, feasting on the meat of a rabbit he had caught with one of his snares. I force myself not to eat my entire portion—what if we don't catch another rabbit?—and tuck the rest away into my satchel. Ten minutes after our breakfast we're on the move.<p>

"Where do you think your brother is?" Zuko finally asks.

He hasn't said a word to me for probably the past hour or two, not even the one (and only) time we've rested. I've been walking a step behind him; never once does he turn around to see if I'm following. I've used this time to watch him, though. Study him. He moves with purpose: shoulders back, chest out, head held high. There is hardly any sound to his movements, and it surprises me just how resourceful he is for being royalty. I've always concluded he's a man of little words. That or he prefers silence, possibly letting others do the talking. (Certainly not me, because I'm okay with silence, too) So you can imagine how his question startles me.

"I don't even know where _we_ are," I answer. "He had a small camp with several other tributes but I don't know where it is. I don't have a map of the arena, you know."

Zuko ignores me and pauses just under a shadowy tree. He pulls out a circular golden compact from his bag. A flip of the lid reveals a tiny whirling dial. I know what this is even though my family has never owned one. I've seen them for sale back at home, looking back at me through thick, heavy glass. A compass. A fancy one, at that, pure gold and polished and expensive. The ones back at home aren't this nice—they are duller, more of a bronze color, and probably have been traded and owned all around the world.

"Where did you get that?" I ask, watching the dial spin.

"My uncle." He clasps it shut, seemingly satisfied, and makes a sharp right turn under a willow. I follow closely behind, ducking under the branches.

"General Iroh?" I ask, thinking back to the first time I had seen the General at the Capital. "Is that the uncle you're talking about?"

"How did you know that?" Zuko doesn't turn, but I hear the skepticism in his voice.

"I pay attention," I say, shrugging. "That was nice of him."

"It'd be nice if he sent me something useful instead of tea leaves," Zuko grunts.

"Sent you," I start, confused, and then—"Oh! He's your mentor, isn't he?"

"Do you always ask a lot of questions?"

I ignore his question with another question. "But what about your sister? Wouldn't it be hard for him to choose only one family member to mentor?"

Zuko sighs, a frustrated gesture, and I wonder if I'm crossing an invisible line. We agreed to work together; there was nothing in the contract about discussing personal information.

"Azula has her own, she —"

"Oh no," I interrupt, a horrible thought occurring to me, one I should have realized earlier. "Your _father_? He's her mentor, isn't he? That seems even more unfair."

Zuko flashes me an irritated glance. "No! Would you let me finish?" After I clamp my mouth shut and nod, he's still glaring but adds, "Her mentor in the Games is her _real_ mentor. Well, one of them."

"I don't know what that means," I say.

"You're not supposed to."

I glare at him. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid or like I'm a child."

"If you keep telling me what to do this relationship will never work," Zuko rallies back.

"Really?" He turns and fixates me with an icy look that I happily return. "And what kind of relationship is that?"

"The only kind I ever have."

"What, the kind of convenience where you order around those _beneath_ you?" I seethe. "In that case, you're right: this relationship will _never_ work because I won't tolerate it. No wonder you operate alone—you have no sense of equality! And why should you? When you've probably been told since birth that the world belongs to you!"

Zuko has this thing where he can move so fast it's a blur. He does it now, and I'm taken off guard. He shoves me, hard, against one of the trees, pinning me with his glare. "I operate alone because I choose to!" he says heatedly. "Because the only person you can count on in life is yourself! Thinking differently only makes you even more naïve and will get you killed because of it. I don't need anyone but myself."

I open my mouth to retaliate, spite dancing on my tongue, but then I hesitate. Hadn't my dad told me the same thing once before? If not the same, but similar?

"_Katara, you can always count on me and your brother, but there will come a day when all you have is yourself. And sometimes that's all there is."_

Zuko was partially right. Yes, there will be times when all you had is yourself, but there are also other times you can count on others. Despite all the darkness in my life, I still believe this. It makes me sad that Zuko doesn't seem to.

"Sometimes people will surprise you," I offer. "If only you let them."

"I was never one for surprises." He steps back, no longer looming over me. He gives me one last piercing look before trudging back into the woods. I have no choice but to follow.

We walk the remainder of the day with little action. Once, I thought I saw a pair of green eyes in the brushes—you always need meat out here—but when I double back there was nothing. I fill my canteen with water at a nearby creek, Zuko boiling it first to cleanse it of bacteria. I won't admit it to him but having a Firebender around comes in handy. When dusk starts to settle, we make for one of the concealing trees.

And then I scream.

Where I thought was solid ground turns out to be a gigantic hole and as I step forward, I fall straight through the cleverly concealed trap. I hit solid rock, hard enough to see stars. When I finally blink them away, I roll onto my back, clutching my right ankle that I'm sure is broken or sprained. A voice is shouting at me from above. There's a dark shadow standing against the fading light.

"Are you alright? Katara, can you hear me?"

Zuko. Of course it's Zuko. Who else would it be? Somewhere in the back of my mind I try to remember telling him my name.

"I'm—"I wince at the pain in my ankle as I try to stand. "I hurt my ankle when I fell."

"Can you stand?"

"Barely. There's no way I can climb up." Zuko says nothing and the pain in my ankle somehow makes me furious. At him. "Just leave me down here, then! Now you won't have to worry about killing me later!"

When Zuko still remains silent, I arch my back and yell, "Some rope would be nice!" toward the opening, hoping Pakku can hear me.

"Stop yelling," Zuko hisses. "I'll find a way to get you out of there."

"Sure you will," I say, snorting. I start digging around my bag, hoping to find something of use. Rabbit meat. Fire flakes. Minor healing medicine. Zuko's crown. Nothing that can get me out of this caged abyss. I look up to glare at the prince—and he's gone.

I curse, furious at myself. At him. At the world. I place my hands on my hips and glare at the hard ground, shaking my head in disbelief. Of course Zuko ran out on me. And why shouldn't he? What would I do if the situation were reversed?

Doesn't matter. I have to move on.

I quickly go over my options but find one distinctive problem: my ankle. I can't do anything until I can put a little more pressure on it. At least I have my bag—good thing I kept that rabbit meat, huh?—and the walls will block out the wind so I don't freeze. This doesn't look the same as when I was trapped with the badgermoles—there's no tunnel, just a black pit. Most likely an Elite induced trap. I just hope the darkness will conceal me from whoever looks in from above. Burning in a pit in the ground is very unappealing.

I'm standing in a patch of darkening light, and only when a shadow comes into view do I look up—and have to throw my hands up before the rope hits me in the face.

"Ask and you shall receive." I catch the amusement in Zuko's voice and for a moment I'm too stunned to do anything but stare stupidly up at him. "Tie it around your waist and I'll pull you up."

_You came back_, I think in surprise, but ask "Where did you get this?"

"From the sky."

_Pakku_, I think, smiling just a little as I begin to tie the rope around my body. He must have heard me after all. It's a little relieving to know there is a sponsor out there that doesn't want me to rot away in a hole in the ground. Yeah, I know it's not because of my benefit—they're probably betting on me to win, hah! Idiots—but it's the thought that counts.

"Remind me to thank the sky when I get out," I say, and then Zuko starts pulling me up.

You know sometimes you see something and think "_That doesn't look that hard_." This is one of those times. There is nothing easy about being pulled up from the ground, with only a rope tied around you, your entire body weight hanging in the air. It hurts like hell, and I know Zuko isn't having much more fun either. By the time he pulls me up, I literally collapse next to him on the ground. The pain in my ankle is now matched with the pain around my stomach, the tight rope that dug into my skin. I untie the knot and yank it off.

That's when I hear the sound of rushing feet. And voices. Many voices, to be exact. Zuko and I exchange a startled look. We both know I'm in no shape to fight and judging by the amount of voices, he won't be able to take them all on his own. There's really only one option even though neither one of us wants to do it, but time is on our side and it's almost nightfall.

Wordlessly we start moving, shuffling toward a tree and clambering upwards. Zuko has to keep a hand on me, practically shoving me up the tree so I don't fall. My hands are trembling and I only use one foot, my bad ankle dangling, making it even harder for me to climb. But I grit my teeth and suck up the pain. The footsteps are closing in and time is crucial. Zuko steps past me, pulling himself up before reaching down and pulling me after him. We do this method until the voices are so close we have to stop moving.

We're about twenty to thirty feet up when the Fire tributes come into view. Even with the fading light they are recognizable. There are only three of them, but Chan probably counts as two.

He's the first to spot us. He gives a lazy, satisfied sort of grin, then nudges his companions to have a look. Mai stares at us with that bored expression of hers, but I know she must be contemplating if she can hit us with her knives from this distance. On Ji is here, too, and I catch the tip of a wooden bow strapped to her back. Her aim is superior and she's small enough to climb up after us. Chan might be stronger and bigger than Zuko and I, but he's also heavier. And from previous interchanges, his ego is just as big as he is. Perfect.

"Fine night, isn't it?" I call down cheerfully. Zuko is higher up than me—the Fire tributes may not have even seen him, actually, which is good—but I can feel his bewildering stare.

The girls exchange a questioning look but Chan says, "Just dandy."

"We never got to introduce ourselves at the peace offering," I say. "I'm Katara."

"You've come a long way just to die, Katara," says Chan. He pulls out a long, thick sword that looks even heavier than me. Even better.

"What, no fire?" And no Azula, it seems. Thank heavens. I can only pray it stays that way.

Chan smirks up at me, but it's a cruel, maddening gesture. "Too fast. Death should be drawn out." My stomach twists into a knot as he hoists himself into the tree.

"What are you doing?" Zuko hisses at me, so low only I can hear.

"We have to get out of the girls' range," I whisper. "I don't think they saw you."

And then we're moving, Zuko practically pulling me up the tree again. I can hear Chan below but he's moving much slower than we are. We have to be another twenty feet in the air when a loud crack makes me look down. Chan and a broken branch go down hard, but not hard enough because he's soon back on his feet, cursing loudly.

On Ji lets out an irritated sound and adjusts an arrow, pulls back, and launches it toward us. I'm small enough to dodge the arrow but Zuko doesn't have enough room and it grazes him in the cheek. He lets out a hiss and the silence below lets me know the Fire tributes heard.

"Who's up there?" Chan shouts, contempt lacing his voice. It's too dark now for him to see just who it is, thankfully.

Zuko opens his mouth and I literally hit him in the knee—because that's all I can reach—and he bites back a growl, glaring at me. Blood drips down his wounded cheek, his scar looking even more menacing at night. Despite how frightening he looks, the way he's glaring at me, I silently plead when him to shut up.

To his clear annoyance he does and our silence only irritates the Fire tributes more. They regroup and I can hear them growling conspiratorially, arguing what to do. The problem, I know, is that they're trying to do what they think Azula would want them to do. Chan whispers something to On Ji and she takes off into the wood. Mai tries to climb the tree but barely gets further than Chan.

"I'll burn it down," he finally says, furious no doubt, that I might die at the fire's hand instead of his.

I throw an anxious look at Zuko, mentally saying _What do we do now_? He answers my question with an abrupt sigh. "Just keep climbing." And then he jumps down a few branches, leaving me behind.

"_You_!" I hear Chan shout, and then I start moving. The sounds of whirling silver lets me know Mai is doing her best to hit us, and when a dagger sinks just below my foot, I yank it out. I stab it into the tree and use it as a grip to hoist myself up.

Smoke rises past me, the sound of crackling fire and snapping branches below. I want to look down but I know I mustn't. I have to keep climbing—I'd be no use to Zuko anyway. At the moment I can barely keep myself alive, much less someone else.

I pull myself up another branch and what I see next almost makes me lose my balance. In the last dying rays of light, I'm able to make out the small figure watching me silently, those eyes peering through the branches. Had my eye level been anywhere else, I probably would have missed her, but those eyes were distinctive. A light, milky green.

Toph.

How did she climb up here? I can barely see myself and she's _blind_. I pause and she's staring right at me, like she can see me. No doubt she hears the commotion below, and has heard me coming up, but I still get that weird impression that she can _see_.

She reaches out a hand—for a second I almost reach to her—and then her tiny hand balls into a fist. The ground shakes, and I'm falling—the _tree_ is falling—all over again, straight through the darkness.

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><p><strong>AN:** Toph! Finally, right? lol I know many of you will be happy for her appearance. :D Very Cato/Rue like in this chapter, yes? Hunger Games readers will know what I mean. ;) Anyway, next chapter will probably be the bonus scene. Maybe. We'll see. Now on to review respones!

**starySan: "I kind of don't want anyone to die."** - Tell me about it. I hate writing death, but it's sort of inevitable. :(

**Jane Keybored: "I was reading through a few other reviews and can't help but feel disappointed that despite all the details and emotion you're putting into this, everyone just wants more Katara/Zuko interaction. And I'm no exception. Dang it!"** - Glad you feel this way because I do too! What makes this story so interesting is that torn feeling you get. You just know romance would be suicide and tragic yet you yearn for it. It's sort of what will go on in Katara's head as well. Who wants to fall in love with someone you have to kill? Horrible situation to be in.

**Zuma12121: "it's so interesting to see the Avatar characters in this setting/layout, is the entire thing kinda from the Hunger Games? including romance? or is it just the killing?"** - Thanks! The layout is pretty similar..the idea of kids going to an arena for the capital and only one person can win. But my romance is different. I HATED the romance in The Hunger Games, actually. *cough Team Gale cough* I wanted this romance to be real from the start, never for entertainment. You'll know what I mean when you read it. ;)

**Anonymous: "I'm sort of hoping that Zuko wins this. He can be more influential in changing their world than Katara could be if she were the lone victor."** - Very good point! Zuko could definitely be very influential. I agree about Katniss not being a realistic rebellion icon. I thought it was silly, actually, and unrealistic. There were a lot of unrealisitc moments in the series, lol.

**Avatar-is-life: "Can you please include more deaths in this story?"** - Haha someone wanting deaths! That is a first. :P There will be, I promise, even though I hate killing characters I love. The deaths are slower in this than say the Hunger Games because the Avatar characters are way more advanced. If you look at the actual series, they're able to escape death over and over again. Same concept here. Right now we're sort of at the calm before the storm. There are a lot of deaths that happen all at once coming up. :(

**AnnaAza: "I thought for a minute that it would be his "never give up without a fight" dagger."** - That was what it was going to be! Except the tributes can't bring weapons into the arena as a token. But we will see that dagger later on. ;) And by the way, I don't have a LJ account! Sorry about that. :(

**Character Q/A**

**Katara: If you would have to choose between Zuko or Azula winning, who would you choose assuming everyone else is dead?** - Zuko

**Zuko: How do you feel about working in a group?** - Like I'm already regretting it.

**Zuko: When you touched Katara's neck right after you persisted with getting details on the necklace what was going through your mind at the time?** - I thought, _did I do that_?

**Zuko: What did you think when Katara pulled out Yue's necklace?** - Expensive.

**Mai: Do you have any real alligence to Azula,or are you just there because she forced you?** - I have no reason not to form an alliance with Azula.

**Matsu: What is your strategy** - Stay alive.

**Sokka: If the situation arose would you be able to injure or even kill Katara?** - If injuring her would save her life, yes. Kill her? Never.


	18. Ice Inside Your Soul

**A/N**: As always, thank you for your patience. Enjoy!

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><p>"Hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable." - <em>Wizard of Oz<em>

**Chapter 17 - Ice Inside Your Soul**

A strong smell of something terribly wrong and a cold drop of water causes me to stir. My body feels heavy, like I'm still caught in a deep sleep but my mind is trying to regain consciousness.

_Drip._

I blink at the wetness that slides down my cheek. For a horrifying moment I wonder if I'm crying, but then I feel another drip and realize it's coming from above. I blink again, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the darkness but my brain is still trying to drag me out of a disorientated faze. I take a few deep breaths, calming myself, catching a thin ray of light just ahead.

_Think, Katara_.

When I'm finally fully awake, about three things I know for certain: one, my feet aren't touching the ground. Two, all I can move is my head. And three, I'm pretty sure I'm stuck into the wall.

Before I start to panic—why do I keep waking up in horrible situations?—the sound of a soft groan snaps my attention in the direction it came from. Not ten feet away do I see a suspended body, head bowed, dark messy hair obscuring their face. Arms and legs spread out and bound with rock high above the ground. With a jolt I realize I must look the same. When Zuko finally raises his head, his eyes find me and he blinks long, steady blinks, like he's trying to blink away the image he's seeing. His confusion only lasts a second, however, before I can literally see the gears in his mind working furiously.

"Someone tied us up!" he hisses lowly, struggling against the rock.

"Not very fun, is it?"

He throws me a glare that even the darkness can't hide. "Now is not the time."

"_Now_ is the time for you to shut your mouth, Your Highness."

The voice shocks me so much that I can't even enjoy the scolding given to the prince. My eyes strain in the darkness until a looming figure comes into view. Only, when the figure steps into the thin beam of light from a crack in the ceiling, it isn't the owner of the voice that had spoken. If it was, than I must have hit my head so hard I'm hallucinating. The male tribute from Province 8, Matsu, comes face to face with the prince. Even with Zuko being pinned above the ground, Matsu is at eye level. I didn't realize how big he is, even larger than Chan. Man, if only Matsu had climbed up that tree after me!

"What do you want?" Zuko demanded.

I have to give him a little credit. The odds are way out of his favor in the current situation and yet he still holds his ground. Well, figuratively.

"Is this the thanks I get for saving you, Pretty Boy?"

_There she is_, I think, as Toph steps out of Matsu's shadow. My eyes still haven't adjusted to the darkness but I can make out her appearance a little. She looks different from what I remember. I once thought she looked like a cute little pixie but now she is dressed in very authentic emerald and yellow fighting gear, a heavy looking belt tied around her waist. Her milky green eyes are partially hidden behind looming black bangs.

"Interesting choice of words," Zuko snaps, "as I'm trapped in this rock."

Despite everything something very crucial and equally as interesting occurs to me. "You're an Earthbender," I blurt out, aiming my words at Toph. "You sent us all crashing down. What were you doing there?"

"I call it right place, right time," says Toph airily. "Lucky you only got a few scrapes and bruises." She motions over her shoulder with a jerk of her chin. "She wasn't so lucky."

I crane my neck the best I can and when I see what Toph means my stomach gives a sickening jolt. The first thing I think is: _That explains the smell_. What looks like a crumpled and broken mess is actually a small girl, bloody and disfigured, a bone sticking out of her calf. She's not moving and I don't have to take a closer look to know she isn't breathing.

On Ji from Province 3.

"Didn't plan on bringing her as well," Toph explains. Her voice is casual, factual, even. "She was in the way and it wasn't my most graceful bending. Must have snagged the rocks or something."

Zuko says something—I think he's asking why she didn't kill us instead—but I can't take my eyes away from On Ji. I didn't even realize she had come back after running off on Chan's orders. This girl is even smaller than Toph and even though she tried to kill me with her bow, I can't help but wonder if the canon went off. Does the Capital know she's dead? Or will she be left in these caves, body decomposing, until nothing remains but ash and her memory is lost forever.

"Be a shame to kill you now, Prince, with no one here to see you fall."

A loud snarl and blast of rock jerks my attention away from On Ji. To my surprise Zuko breaks free of the rock and clambers to the ground. He must have been waiting for the opportune moment to use his Firebending to break free from the rock. He wastes no time at all and with a little shame, I realize I probably should have been trying to find a way out, too.

The Earthbenders were caught by surprise. Zuko kicks out a flame and clips Toph under her chin. His fists flare up in fire and he leaps toward Matsu—when a flying piece of rock lodges itself around his throat and sends him flying backwards into the wall, like an arrow pinning a target in place. Toph flicks her hand and Zuko's dragged higher up the wall by his collar of rock. He has no choice but to grab at his throat, his legs flailing.

"Now that you're just hanging there pay attention," she hisses, wiping the blood away from her chin. "You should know that I have no intention of killing either of you if you keep your mouths shut. But keep tempting me, Prince, and I'll change my mind."

Blood is rushing to Zuko's face and his foot slips on a crevice so he's now dangling completely in midair. He can't even Firebend because he can't take his hands away from his throat as he tries to break the rock pinning him to the wall.

"Stop it!" I shout, before I can help myself, because this image is making me sick. "You're choking him to death!"

"Part of the game, isn't it?"

The coldness in Toph's voice startles me but she simply flicks her wrist again and rock jets out just below Zuko's feet so he can stand on it, legs no longer hanging in midair. He coughs roughly, regaining his breath, and throws Toph the darkest glare I've seen to date. The rock is still wrapped around his throat, though, pinning him to the wall. Toph brings her hand across her body in a slicing motion and the rock reaches out and wraps around Zuko's arms, stretching them straight out.

She's very wise to keep him pinned up there. I'd imagine if he gets himself out this time it will be more than a clip under the chin for her. I can feel the heat of his anger from here.

It seems Matsu is thinking all the same lines of me, however, and punches a rock forward that slams into the side of Zuko's head. I scream and jerk against the rock. Zuko head lolls forward. He's completely knocked out.

"Why did you do that?" I demand, throwing a piercing glare at Matsu.

"Because what I have to say is for your ears only," says Toph. Matsu moves into the beam of light and I catch the glimmer of Zuko's Dao swords hanging from his belt. And he has my dagger! Those little thieves!

"Matsu and I have been working on underground tunnels ever since the start of the Games," Toph goes on, oblivious to my anger. "We're getting out of here."

Suddenly my anger defuses. There's complete silence, which lets me know I didn't hear wrong. She really just said _they're getting out of here_. As in, attempting escape from the arena. I've heard my share of ridiculous ideas from Sokka over the years but this has to top the list.

"Where would you go?" I can't help but ask.

"We gotta get to Province 6 first," she says. She picks at her teeth and spits—not at all delicately—onto the ground. "Hide out there till we can find a way to Province 13."

I stand corrected. _This_ is now the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard in my life.

"There is no Province 13," I finally say, breaking the silence. "Fire Lord Sozin only established twelve."

"Who said anything about that whack job?" Toph snarls.

I wince, more out of habit than offense. If anyone was caught calling Sozin a "whack job" they might as well prepare for death, or wish for it. I remember last year one of Sokka's friends was caught calling Fire Lord Ozai a "jerkbender" and we didn't see him for two weeks. I don't know what happened to him but he was never the same after that. Hardly spoke to anyone and lost at least twenty pounds. The scars along his arms were hard to miss, too.

Toph lets her words settle in and I take a moment to mull it all over. Was there a Province 13? No, can't be. There have always been twelve and twelve only. Once there had been four nations, yes, but that means nothing now. The world belongs to the Fire Lord and the Capital. Suddenly, I think of the Elites and the Watchers. I look around, expecting to see that familiar box recording this entire exchange, an army of Elites waiting to arrest us just outside the cave.

"Should you really be saying this stuff?" I ask, straining a little against the rock, cutting through their argument. The way I'm hitched into the rock is really starting to hurt, I realize, especially around my shins and wrists.

"The Elites don't come down here," says Matsu, speaking for the first time. His voice is deep and slow, reminding me oddly of watching honey drip. "They only watch what's going on up there." He points to the ceiling of the rock. "We make appearances just to show them we're alive. They think we're just hiding down here and focus on the rest of you."

I think back to being trapped with Zuko the first time I fell through the ground. I have half a mind to wonder if the Badgermoles were helping Toph and Matsu as well. Doesn't this cave strikingly resemble the others I've fallen in? Is there a chance these aren't caves at all, but a huge, gigantic tunnel that the Elites know nothing about, created by Toph and Matsu? If the Elites don't know about them and don't come down here, does this mean no one saw Zuko and I help each other? Surely they saw the end, where he pulled me from the hole. I wonder what everyone thought of that, or what kind of conclusions they drew to how we _got_ that way to begin with.

Toph cracks her knuckles, the sound echoing against the walls. "It's safe to speak plainly down here," she says. "I can't feel anyone within miles anyway."

I have no idea what she means by _feeling_ anyone within miles, but I can't bother myself to ask because I'm starting to lose feeling in my toes and arms. I can feel the sharpness in my back and know it isn't the rock. My satchel must be strapped to my back still, Zuko's crown pressing against my spine.

"What makes you think Province 13 exists?" I ask.

"What makes you think it doesn't?" Toph rallies back. Her voice holds a strong stubborn quality that I hadn't picked up before. "What do you even know about _any_ of the provinces except for your own?"

"I—" I start, then pause. I've never seen any other province except for Nine and One, and a little of Two on the way to the Capital. I know it's illegal to leave your own province, and all I know about any of the others is what the Guards tell me.

"Did you know about the uprising in Twelve?" Toph asks. "Fifteen years ago?"

"Uprising?" I ask, shocked.

"Do you wonder why there are two Air Temples instead of four?" Toph presses, stepping closer to me. I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off. "No, you don't, because you only bother to wonder what the Capital _wants_ you to wonder. You want the truth? The truth is that they don't let us leave our provinces because they're scared of what will happen if we do."

"There's no way to escape this arena!" I blurt, frustrated. Toph's words send me into a fury—not because it makes me mad, but because it gives me hope. Hope that I can't have. Hope that is far too great to wind up disappointed. "You're mad," I add.

"We will find a way out and make a run for it," Matsu says, giving a very determined look at Toph.

"What you're talking about is suicide," I say, throwing a look between the pair of them. "Why are you even telling me any of this?"

Probably not my wisest choice of words, I think immediately, wishing I could take it back. Telling me makes me a liability, someone who knows too much. But Matsu simply looks to Toph, who shrugs. I find it oddly hilarious that this huge boy seems to listen to this tiny, blind little girl. But, after seeing her Earthbending, I can fully understand his reasons. I can't help but think I've been the blind one, underestimating her.

"Because you can come with us," Toph finally says.

My heart flutters with possibilities. Impossible, terrible possibilities. Escape the games? Was that even possible? I shake my head. No, we are in a monitored arena in some remote location in the world. We have no idea where we really are and what would we do if we made it? Live in hiding for the rest of our lives as wanted fugitives? We'd be hunted like animals! The idea of attempting escape back at Province 9 is insane, but this? This was beyond insane.

My Dad always says to believe in the impossible but this is pushing even his limits. Risking my own life was one thing, but attempting to do something that has never been done before—escape the arena—and flee toward a place that does not exist? And even if I succeeded, what would happen to my Dad? To Province Nine?

"I can't," I finally say, because I have a feeling her invitation is meant for me only; otherwise they wouldn't have knocked Zuko out. "I won't leave my brother. And you'll never make it." _And there's no such thing as Province 13. You're living a dream._

"Suit yourself." Toph's expression is unreadable as she nods toward Matsu. He lifts an arm and punches a hand forward, carving a perfect doorway into the rock.

"How do you know I won't tell anyone what you're doing?" I ask.

Toph pauses outside the make-shift door, her back facing me. "Because you want freedom just as much as I do." And with that they disappear through the rock, sealing Zuko and I behind. As I stare at the wall they vanished through, I can't help but think if I ever see Toph again, I want to ask her why she helped me and Zuko from the Fire tributes.

It's at least fifteen long minutes before Zuko finally stirs. I've been trying vigorously, to no prevail, to manage a way out of the rock, but damn am I wedged in good! Zuko makes a groggy sort of noise, asks me what happened—I tell him they left long ago, leaving us to die—and in no time at all, he's burst free of the rock again. He's a lot higher up this time and hits the ground hard.

He takes a minute or two to gather his senses. I can hear him muttering under his breath as he starts to pace, rubbing the place on his head where Matsu had hit him. Does he remember I'm here too?

"Hey," I say angrily, "don't forget about me up here!"

"You're not going to be as easy to free," he says, stopping his pacing to look at me. Blood trickles down his face but he doesn't seem bothered by it. "You should have persuaded them to let you join them just to get out of this mess."

I laugh at the irony, considering they _did_ ask and I turned them down. Who am I to call them mad, when clearly I am?

Because my arms are pretty skinny, and I've started sweating from my failing labor, I try sliding them out. It's no use, even with the sweat. They've bound me too tightly. I'll probably fall unconscious in less than a half hour, losing all feeling in my body. What a horrible way to die.

Zuko walks over to me and his head is at level with my stomach. He inspects the rock carefully, checking the grooves and crevices. I huff a few times, feeling like an interesting display piece in a window. He just ignores me, though, and starts slowly heating bits of rock surrounding my encased arms and legs. I cry out once—because I'm almost positive he burned me—and he pulls the fire back, mutters a muffled apology, and starts again.

It's a long process by the time I slip from the rock. Zuko catches me before I hit the ground and I'm thankful. My legs and arms are so shaky he has to sit me down. I shift my satchel around and silently dig out the last bit of bread, splitting it in half and giving part to Zuko. It's hard and pretty stale, but its food and I'm starving. I have no idea how long we've been down here—judging by the crack in the ceiling there's still daylight left—but we'll need to find water soon.

I had barely noticed it while being stuck into the rock, but my ankle is still pretty sore. It's definitely better than it was, but if I spend hours upon hours on my feet it's going to get worse. I take off a boot to inspect it and sure enough, it's swollen and bruised.

"That's only going to get worse when you walk on it," Zuko says, kneeling down beside me. His eyes wander around—we're not really in a tunnel, I notice, more like a circular cavern, surrounded by nothing but rock walls—and finally settle on On Ji. He stands up and starts moving toward her when I blurt,

"What are you doing?"

He ignores me, like usual, and to my horror, flips On Ji onto her back and starts searching her. His back is facing me, obscuring most of her body, and I hear the sound of clothing ripping and snapping wood. When Zuko comes back, he's holding several long pieces of red cloth and what looks like broken bits of a wooden bow.

"We could have used that!" I protest, furious he destroyed a weapon that could have been very useful.

"We are using it," he says, and bats my hands away from my ankle. "Just more practically."

"What are you—"

I watch in a sort of mesmerized fashion as he starts working. He saws down the wood into two pieces against a jagged rock, smoothing it to the shape he wants. The red cloth is ripped and torn into shreds. He braces my ankle on either side with the wood, asks me to hold it in place, and starts wrapping my ankle with the cloth in a pattern that goes around my ankle and under my foot. A sort of figure-eight kind of pattern. The cloth isn't soft, but a very strong, durable kind of fabric. When Zuko finishes, my ankle is tight and braced.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" I ask, trying to hide the fact that I'm secretly impressed.

"I'll take that as a thank you," he says, and stands up. "I've had to deal with a lot of injuries growing up. Knowing how to bind and heal them seemed necessary."

_Well, it's paying off now_, I think. He must not know how to heal scars, though; otherwise his face would be free of it.

I slid my boot back on and get to my feet, brushing off bits of debris from my clothes. Zuko is moving around the cavern, examining the walls. Without looking at me, he says, "You sure are cursed to die underground, aren't you?"

I ignore his comment. "I bet this connects with the badgermole tunnels. Maybe we can find a way out if we find them." I'm pretty sure this connects to Toph and Matsu's tunnels, actually, but I don't want to say that.

"Didn't know you missed the beasts so badly," he says. He reaches over his back, feels the air, and curses. "They took me swords!"

"I would have too. And they could have killed us," I point out. "Better to lose them than lose our lives."

"Those were given to me by my cousin when I was eight," he says. I catch the barest glimpse of remorse in his voice. "He sponsored me and had Uncle send them in."

"Maybe we can get them back," I offer, trying to sound a little appeasing. "We still have your crown at least," I add, giving my satchel a little shake.

Zuko looks at me with an unreadable expression. "We have to get out of here first."

I glance over at On Ji's crumpled body. My chest tightens. "We can't leave her here."

"What?" says Zuko, eyes wide, as I move toward the tiny Fire tribute.

Knowing I'll probably regret it, I bend down to examine On Ji. The smell is so strong I have to hold my breath at first, letting out bits of air and inhaling slowly, letting my nose adjust to it. I figure out in less than a minute that I'm probably going to be sick if I keep this up, so I rip off a piece of my shirt and tie it around my nose. On Ji's body is bloody and bruised, but it's her calf that makes me gag. Bone sticking out, flesh torn and ripped like it went through a piece of machinery. It's all I can do not to heave and start to stand up.

But I see the innocent expression on her face, a face destined to remain lost in shadow. Suddenly I know I can't leave her. No one—not even a Fire tribute—should be left down here, body rotting. She deserves a proper burial with her family.

I force myself to forget how she looks and that she's dead and like Zuko did earlier, I search her body. I'm a little disappointed to find no arrows or anything of use. Then with a grit, I get into a squatting position and lift her over my head and onto my shoulders. She's light for a person—probably a little over a hundred pounds—but it's still heavy when I stand up. I secure a hand around her neck and the other behind her knees, balancing her in place. I can see the bone sticking out from my peripheal vision.

_Pretend you're carrying home a young arctic wolf_, I tell myself. _And Sokka and Dad are starving. Their life depends on it._

I can feel Zuko's stare as I make my way toward the place I watched Toph and Matsu disappear. Zuko's contraption definitely aids my ankle but On Ji's weight isn't helping. I don't know how long I'll be able to walk like this but I have to try.

"They went through here," I say. "Just start blasting away and we'll find something eventually." When he doesn't so much as acknowledge me, I whirl around. "What? We don't have all day."

"You think you're just going to carry her around?" He asks, a sort of bewildered, irritated look on his face. "She's dead weight, literally."

"I'm not asking _you_ to carry her," I snarl, shifting so most of my weight is on my good ankle. I turn around and face the wall and mutter, "Some noble prince you are, leaving a dead girl to rot away."

"She's already dead," Zuko argues. I can tell by his voice he's moving toward me. "There's nothing more you can do."

"There's always something you can do!" I don't know why I'm so angry—this girl tried to kill me, for crying out loud. "Would you want your body to remain underground, unnoticed by anyone? Wouldn't you want to be buried by the people who love you?"

Zuko's face is like blank slate. "I'd be dead, so what I wanted wouldn't really matter, would it?"

"How ironic you're a Firebender when your soul is as cold as ice," I say, rather coldly myself, glaring at him. "You have no heart."

He doesn't even flinch. "Hearts aren't practical."

"What does that mean?"

"They're breakable," he says simply. Then, he pushes me back and punches a hole through the wall with a burst of fire. Smoke flutters in my eyes, debris of rocks falling from the blast.

Without a backwards glance at me, Zuko steps through, leaving me no choice but to follow.

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><p><strong>AN:** Interesting chapter, yes? Hope you liked it. Last few lines are inspired by the quote at the top, as you can see. ;) I hope now everyone can see why we haven't seen much of Toph so far. She's been very busy. Thanks for reading! Working on the bonus scene and hoping to post next. On to responses!

**AnnaAza: "At first I thought Katara would use the crown like Azula used it to grip onto the cliffs at the Western Air Temple, but she wouldn't get far with one grip on the rock, and I don't think Zuko would be too pleased with her damaging his crown."** - Haha no, I can't imagine Zuko being pleased about that. I forgot Azula does that! She's such a beast. :P

**jazz294: "the only weak part was right at the start, why would katara volunteer for the games when she knew that only one could come out alive?"** - This is something Zuko and Katara talk about in upcoming chapters, but I will roughly say she does it not out of what's smartest, but out of doing what her heart tells her to do. And you're right that selecting both randomly would have been unrealistic on my part. :P

**Luione Luiciones: "This is a bit like the Hunger Games, isn't it? Did you get the idea from it, or did you come up with this yourself?"**- Yep! I got the idea from THG. This is loosely based off it, but in the Avatar World. :)

**Character Q/A**

"**Katara, if your brother was wounded fatally would you deal the final blow in order to end his suffering?"** - That would be terrible. I guess I'd ask him what he wanted me to do, and I'd do it.

"**Katara, Is it bad luck or do you just LIKE landing/hitting/wounding or otherwise marring your head?"** I've always had horrible luck. Sokka is the lucky one.

**"Zuko, Did you really think that you were being attacked when Katara was screaming, or were you concerned for her secretly?"** - I thought we were under attack.

**"Zuko, did leave behind a love intrest at home and if so, do you miss her?"** - No

**Updated list of ALIVE tributes:**

**Province 1 - Azula and Zuko**

**Province 2 - Mai and Chan**

**Province 5 - Ty Lee **

**Province 6 - Jet**

**Province 7 - Haru and Smellerbee**

**Province 8 - Toph and Matsu**

**Province 9 - Katara and Sokka**

**Province 11 - Aang**

**Province 12 - Suki**


	19. BONUS FEATURE two

**A/N:** As requested, this is a **BONUS SCENE** for reaching 200 reviews. :D The next bonus scene will be when we reach 400 reviews, if that happens. As per request, this is a glimpse of the moments right after Zuko is chosen. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Bonus Scene - Chosen<strong>

A vase had been smashed. The tapestries burned. There was a dark hole punched into the wall, singed with dying fire. Prince Zuko stood next to the window, a silhouette encased in darkness. His bleeding hand forgotten, he watched the celebrating crowd below, rejoicing in the Reaping. For him there was only emptiness and bitter resentment.

A hand gently touched his arm—he hadn't even realized someone had come into the room. Zuko turned to find his Uncle Iroh, a faint smile on the old man's face. It didn't quite reach his eyes, though. Sadness was there instead, deep within those soft gold eyes that seemed to read Zuko so well.

"Prince Zuko, we wi—"

"Don't," interrupted the prince. "Just…leave it, Uncle. I already know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear any of it."

"I was _going_ to say, we will need to get you new training gear," said Iroh, very casually. His eyes flickered down to Zuko's bleeding hand, his gaze worried. He quickly shook it off. "I am thinking of having Lu Ten get more of that fire resistant mixture. Don't you think that might be useful? Might need to pay a visit to the Black Jade, too."

Zuko looked at his uncle, startled. He had expected to hear soothing words of reassurance. Embraces of sympathy and perhaps they could discuss how unfair the situation was. What he didn't expect was calming discussing the preparations of the Games.

And for what it was worth, Zuko was greatly appreciative. He wasn't one to vocalize his thanks, though, so he simply nodded without a word.

"You will need to select a mentor—"

"You," Zuko cut in. "If you will have me, Uncle." Of all the victors that had come out of Province One, there was no one else the prince wanted. Not his own father, even if it were allowed.

Iroh was very quiet a moment, looking touched. "An honor, Prince Zuko. We will get through this together."

Zuko grunted.

"The road ahead will not be an easy one, but it is not something we cannot overcome together." Iroh's hand moved to the prince's shoulder. "I was very impressed with how you handled yourself out there." His eyes scanned the room, lingering on the smashed vase and frayed ends of the burnt tapestries. "Can't say the same for in here."

Zuko held up his hand and tilted it, watching the blood drip down his skin.

Iroh gently reached for it and said, "Let's get this cleaned up, Nephew. Can't be injured before you've even started."

Once his uncle left, Zuko slumped against one of the walls, pinching the bridge of his nose with his unbandaged hand. He didn't know what to think about everything that had happened. The winning province gets the advantage of choosing their tributes for the next Games, and since Province One won last year, the public got to vote on their selected tributes this year. Only, it hadn't exactly worked out that way. Fire Lord Ozai had overruled the voting and selected Zuko and his sister as tributes.

Should Zuko feel honored or furious? Anger was definitely what he was feeling right now but was he going about this the wrong way? Was this a test? As much as Zuko tried to reason with himself, he couldn't rid the feeling of abandonment. And betrayal.

The door opened behind him with the sound of long robes dragging against the stone floor. Zuko knew his father was here without turning, the temperature in the air shifting. A thick, heavy silence fell and all that could be heard was the prince's rapid breathing.

Whenever he was upset and on the verge of losing his temper, his mother would say "Close your eyes and count to ten."

Zuko closed his eyes. _One_.

"Destroying this room is no way to celebrate, Prince Zuko," came the purring, smooth voice of the Fire Lord. Zuko could imagine him _tsking_, eyeing the broken vase and burnt fabric with disdain.

_Two_. "What exactly should I be celebrating, Father?"

"Your chance to reclaim your honor," said Ozai sharply, sounding irritated that he had to answer such a foolish question. "If you should take the road of cowardice like you have done before, you do not deserve to wear the crown."

_Three_. Zuko concentrated on his breathing, flashes of the past resurfacing unwillingly. _I meant you no disrespect. I am your loyal son_.

"You will fight for your honor, Prince Zuko," Ozai went on in that same cold, chilling voice that seemed to hold its own presence.

The words were so familiar it seemed as though only yesterday Zuko had heard them. With his eyes closed, it was all the more easily to picture the Agni Kai arena: The hundred watching citizens of Caldera City seated around a large, golden stadium. A child of thirteen bowing, prepared to fight a duel with a disagreeing general, only to be surprised that it was his own father he would be fighting instead.

_I will not fight you. _

_Four._

"And Azula?" Zuko exhaled slowly. "What did she do to deserve this?" Not that he cared so much about the welfare of his sister—she could take care of herself just fine—but Azula was the golden child. The favorite. His shock of being chosen by Ozai was probably next to nothing compared to hers. Though she'd likely get over it and see it as a challenge.

_Five_.

"There is no higher honor than representing your Capital and country," said Ozai. The familiar disappointment lingered under the coldness of his tone. "Princess Azula will make me proud, I have no doubts."

Of course she will.

"You realize there can only be one victor, right?" _Six_. "You are sending your own children into a death arena, knowing only one can live."

"It sounds like you have already given up before rising to fight." Ozai sounded amused. "Just like before."

Zuko's fists clenched at his side and he finally turned to face his father. "I didn't give up then—I just refused to fight you. And there is no reason to fight for entertainment."

_Seven_.

Ozai's eyes flashed at the slight act of disobedience. He was very still, a figure of poise and all angles and sharpness. He wore his traditional Fire Lord robes, the points on his shoulders just as sharp as his golden eyes. Power radiated off him like the heat from the sun. Zuko had been told by many that he held a strong resemblance to his father, but how could he? Fire Lord Ozai didn't have the scar that marked Zuko's shame.

"Then you are a true coward," Ozai spat, "and you have learned nothing. I am _ordering_ you to fight in the Black Games. This is not about entertainment, as you kindly put it, Prince Zuko. You will represent the heart of the Capital and fight just as I did. If you win, you will reclaim your honor and respect as the heir to the throne." Ozai straightened, looking somehow taller and larger and more powerful. "You will have _my_ respect."

_Eight_.

Zuko could hear his uncle in the back of his mind, but the words were distant and fuzzy. All he could think about was what his father had said: _you will have my respect_. That's all Zuko wanted, after all. It's all he ever wanted. But at what cost and lengths would he go to get it?

_Nine_.

His uncle had told him long ago how his grandfather had chosen both Iroh and Ozai to fight in the Black Games, both of which came out notorious. But that was long ago, and neither was close enough in age to fight against each other. Would Azulon have put brother against brother like Ozai was doing now, only sister against brother? If neither succeeded, the crown would go to Lu Ten. Zuko was fine with that—as long as Azula didn't take it from him. She wanted it her entire life and here was her chance to go for it.

Suddenly, losing was no longer an option. Zuko cared deeply for his cousin but the crown belonged to him. He was the heir to the throne and nothing would stand in the way of that. Not Azula and not the other twenty two tributes. It didn't matter why Ozai had chosen him, only that he was chosen. Zuko had no other choice but to accept what was done. He looked up and held his father's gaze.

"I am your loyal son." He bowed. "And I will not let you down, Father."

_Ten_.

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><p><strong>AN:** Finally, a chance to see inside Zuko's head a little. :D Hope you can now see what winning the games would mean to him. I think it only makes sense to use the aspect of "capturing the Avatar to restore my honor" as the device behind this. "Win the games to restore my honor." Wouldn't be Zuko without his honor driving him forward, haha. Keep in mind this chapter happens BEFORE the games. ;)

**Review Responses:**

**AA: "If the air is humid then it's a plus for Katara cause she should be able to pull it out from the air."** - She probably could if she was a Master Waterbender, because pulling water from the air, I think, would be a difficult technique. A big difference in the series and this story is that Katara is NOT a Master Waterbender..not yet, at least. ;) Since Waterbending was only allowed to be taught for day to day activities, Katara's only real lessons for fighting were what she learned from Pakku and Hama. And that was only a few days..not enough time for her to master much.

**And..You write them very well and don't make them overly powerful which is I think an testament to your skill. I'm just frustrated that Katara is like a misfortune magnet that she seems weak because of it."** - Thank you! Goes back to some of the differences in the show V.S. this story. Since fighting isn't really allowed to be taught, unless you're from a Fire province, most of the talent comes from physical fighting. I've tried to showcase some of Katara's strengths in a different light, but I might need to show them more. She's strong in different ways than say Zuko and Azula, which we'll see more of later. I promise, though, that the tables will soon be turning for her. :D

**Jane Keyboard: "Zuko needs his dao swords for maximum hotness, for crying out loud!"** - HAHA! This made me laugh out loud. Let's hope for Zuko's hotness level that he gets back those swords. :P And he's glad you like his very informative answers. ;)

**LookMeInTheStars: "Have been meaning to read The Hunger Games but haven't begun because I don't know if it will ruin this story in any way for me...is it safe to start them?"** - Yeah, this is different enough that there's really no spoilers. I mean you might draw some parallels but it's no biggie. ;)

**And.."have you decided if there will be any romance between Sokka and Suki?"** - No, I haven't. That's probably going to either work or not work as we get closer to the games. Sokka and Suki have to run into each first and that hasn't happened yet. Not in awhile, that is. :P

**EvilPurpleCookiePenkeyMonguin: "Are you going to do all three books?"** - Just this and a sequel. The sequel will be more like Mockingjay so no Catching Fire.

**Character Q/A**

**"Katara, after what Toph's revealed to you while Zuko was knocked out, do you plan on letting said firebender, your brother, or anyone else know?"** - Definitely Sokka and probably Aang. I'm not sure about anyone else.

**"Katara, who's hotter, Jet or Zuko? And tell me why?"** - Zuko, obviously, he's a Firebender! He radiates heat. (Katara is not in a culture that calls boys "hot" in that way.)

**"Zuko if you're being honest with yourself, (no bad boy, I have no heart facade), Do you feel something for Katara? Even a little bit?"** - Of course; annoyance counts, right?

**"Zuko, what is your relationship with your father?"** - Complicated.

**"Zuko, should you always have to pin Katara?"** - What?

**"Zuko, if it came down to it, would you sacrifice your life to save kataras?"** - No. Why would I do that?

**"Ty Lee, who's cuter, Toph or Aang?"** - Sokka is the cutest!

**"Suki, any other guy that you would like to take down?"** - All of them.


	20. Fire and Ice

**A/N**: Glad you liked the bonus chapter. It was nice to get out of Katara's head for a bit. :D This chapter is one of my favorites. Hope you like it!

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><p>"Some say the world will end in fire; Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice." - <em>Robert Frost<em>

**Chapter 18 - Fire and Ice**

I don't know how long we walk through the underground tunnels. It took us about twenty minutes to find where the tunnels intercept the walls but now it feels like we've been walking forever. The only light is the steady flame in Zuko's hand, catching the chipped and jagged walls of rock. Somewhere in the distance I can hear something, like a rushing wind, but there's only rock in my sight.

I'm very impressed with Toph and Matsu, assuming these tunnels is their doing. Twice, we reach forks, forcing us to choose a direction. Another time we stop because the path veers into four different tunnels. It's like a giant maze of rock and since Zuko starts getting suspicious, I supply the only answer I can come up with, one that isn't quite the truth but will have to do.

"The Elites obviously built these," I say, adjusting On Ji on my shoulders with a grunt. "Probably so the tributes will starve to death down here."

"They want the world to see the deaths," says Zuko, toneless. "Part of the entertainment. They wouldn't want us dying down here out of sight."

He's smarter than I give him credit for. New tactic. "They probably have Watchers hidden, then. New methods of torture—watch the tributes starve or be slaughtered by badgermoles." My voice comes out nasty and tastes bitter. I'm sure he doesn't miss it.

We fall back into silence and continue through the darkness. Hours go by and we walk. Stopping once to eat the last bit of food I had packed, I manage to pull out the moisture and water from the stone walls. It isn't much but it's enough to quench our thirst. I'm really going to have to work on that technique in the future; if there's a future for me, anyway. My lower back is on fire, burning from the ach of carrying On Ji. My legs fell heavy, each step harder than the last. I'm really not sure how much longer I can take this.

I stop abruptly, dropping On Ji to the ground. My legs are shaking terribly as I punk down next to the tiny tribute, covering my nose with the front of my shirt. Being entrapped so tightly makes the stench of a rotting body all the more worse; not to mention the smell of rust and salt coming from her wounds.

I pull up my knees and drape my arms on them, hanging my head, exhausted. Zuko must have stopped, too, because I feel a body sit next to me. We sit in silence for awhile and when I sneak a glance at the prince, he's propped against one of the walls, eyes closed. I wonder if he feels as doomed as I do. Maybe I really am destined to die underground; how many times have I been stuck down here?

When Zuko finally gets to his feet, he picks up On Ji and places her over his shoulders without a word. I watch silently, trying to understand his motives. Maybe he does it because I was slowing us down or maybe because I was about to pass out; which of course, would ultimately slow us down. For whatever reason, I'm grateful as I stand up, my legs much steadier than before. I turn and follow him through the tunnels. Sometime later a cannon goes off somewhere in the distance, rumbling the rocks, halting us in our steps. My heart freezes and all I can think is _Please not Sokka_.

Zuko and I share a look but I can't quite decipher his face. He seems to understand mine and says, "I doubt it's your brother."

"You don't know that," I say.

"No, I don't, but some things are instinctual."

Touché. Still, I'm not entirely convinced, but then guilt starts to seep into me. I shouldn't doubt Sokka; I should trust that he's alive, because he knows how to take care of himself. Sokka is a strategist and he's tough. He knows how to hunt and survive.

When we stop again, it's because a beam of bright light trickles into the tunnels. I look up to find a crack in the ceiling, around the size of my hand. Judging by the brightness it must be the moon's light. So we've been walking all day, most likely. Or has it been a few days since we've been down here? I don't know and it doesn't really matter.

"Now what?" I ask, just as Zuko sets On Ji down. "We're stuck in the same problem as before: if you blast out the ceiling, it comes tumbling down."

He ignores me and walks about the cavern, examining. The silence allows me to listen and that's when I hear it. The same rushing sound, the one I had heard earlier. In an odd way I could almost _feel_ the sound. I lower myself to the floor, pressing my ear against it.

"Your Highness, come here."

"What?"

I wave him over. "Listen to this. What is it?"

Zuko walks over to me and that's when the ground starts to shake, the walls trembling. I look up in alarm, too shocked to move. A badgermole crashes into the cavern, blowing bits of rock and dust in all directions.

"Not again," I hiss out, getting to my feet.

Zuko doesn't hesitate. He forms two whips of fire and starts slashing at the animal. The badgermole howls as the fire licks at its clawed paws. Eyes a milky shade of green, I'm reminded of Toph. I start to grab Zuko's arm—maybe we're going about the animal the wrong way?—when the badgermole slams its tail so hard on the ground, I fall to my knees.

It happens to fast. The floor, shattered and cracking like ice, gives way and crumples. I scream as my body drops down. For a moment I'm in free fall, arms and legs flailing, and then I crash into rock, sliding down the smooth surface. I try to claw out and grab something to stop but it's no use. The rock is slippery with—water! Rushing water, like a river.

I'm sliding so fast it's hard to focus. I hold out my hands and halt the water in front of me, pulling it up to form a wall so I can't slide anymore. My arms are shaking from applying such pressure, using the water as a brace. I can hear something in the distance, the water moving faster, making my arms shake harder. I turn my head and—

Zuko crashes into me from behind and I lose my hold on the water. I grapple for a grip but we're both sliding down the rock, far too quickly to stop ourselves. We approach an opening, the end of the slide, but all I can see is a dark abyss.

Panicking, I claw at Zuko out of instinct because I don't want to topple down into nothing. He punches out his arms and legs, bracing himself against the walls, halting completely. I latch onto his waist. I'm flushed against the rock, my legs dangling down, the current of water trying to pull me with it. Faintly I remember the rushing sound I had been hearing earlier; I didn't realize there was a torrent of water below us the entire time!

"Now, what?" I grit out. "You can't hold on all day!"

The water starts rushing harder and something hits Zuko from behind. He grip slips and we're sliding again. The tunnel starts widening as we approach the end of it. My eyes are still focused on the edge, towards the blackness of nothing. An arm flashes in my vision and suddenly On Ji's body slides past me. She's much smaller than me, body limp, and the current takes her away faster than it does me and Zuko, who are still fighting it.

On Ji's body starts to fall over the edge and I lunge forward face first, grabbing her arm. I manage to shift, spinning on the rock, trying to hang on the edge with my free hand. But On Ji's weight is pulling me down. I grapple for something, anything, and my fingers find a groove in the rock. But I'm falling too fast and my grip slips as I'm pulled over the edge, into the darkness.

Zuko's hand suddenly juts out, snatching my mine. My body halts in mid air, one arm gripping On Ji, the other hanging on to Zuko. The visual must be astounding: Zuko hanging onto the ledge, me hanging on to him, On Ji dangling lifelessly from my hand. Water continues rushing out the tunnel, pouring over me so hard I can't even look anywhere but down at the swirling darkness.

"Let her go!" Zuko shouts against the current. "I can't pull you both up."

I spit water from my mouth and shake my head, as if that will stop it from pouring on me. "Even if you pull me up we can't climb up that tunnel!"

"You're a Waterbender." He sounds angry and exasperated. "Do something!"

My hand is slipping; both from Zuko and On Ji. The arm that's hanging onto Zuko feels like it's pulling my shoulder out of socket, On Ji's weight bringing me down. I have no free hands to bend the water and even if I could, what would happen then? The water is too strong and fast. I think about trying to freeze it, but that would make climbing up even more impossible.

I never realize until this moment how powerful my element really is. A bitter laugh escapes me.

"Damn it you're slipping," Zuko growls. "She's already dead and unless you want to join her _let her go_!"

Thinking quickly, I scan the darkness, blinking profusely against the water. In my panic I hadn't noticed my eyes had adjusted to the darkness now; we're in a sort of narrow and tall cavern, the water spilling into it like a waterfall.

"Katara!"

My hand starts to slip and guilt gnaws at me. _I'm sorry but it's you or me_, I think, and let go of On Ji. She topples out of sight and for a few seconds, my mind deftly freezes. And then I hear a loud smack, a very familiar kind of smack. As I stare down below, I notice the floor is _moving_.

"I have an idea," I say, using my free hand to double grip Zuko's. "Let go of the rock."

"_What_?" His raspy shout is incredulous.

"Let go!"

"Why?"

"Just trust me!" I manage to arch my back, pulling my face out of the falling water. Zuko is staring at me, the water splitting just behind his head. He looks torn, his jaw working furiously. I can only imagine how hard it is for him to be hanging on with one hand, while holding my dead weight.

"Trust me, Zuko," I say again, pleading. "Let go."

He does. We free fall for what feels like a few seconds before slamming into the pool of water below. It's colder than I expect and for a second I relax, letting it consume me. Then I start kicking, paddling toward the top. My head breaks the surface and I gasp for air. A pale body floats nearby.

On Ji. I reach out and grip her, not bothering much if her face stays above the water. I start swimming and it's a little awkward, but I can't really bend with one arm.

Another pale hand reaches out and grabs my wrist, startling me.

"Zuko?" I cough up a little water. "Are you alright?"

"Give her to me," he says, ignoring my question, "since you refuse to be reasonable. Start looking for a way out."

Roughly, we're about ten feet below where the water is pouring in from the tunnel. About forty more feet and we'll reach the ceiling of the cavern. Soon it'll be completely filled with water.

I dive down, propelling forward using my bending to speed up the process. It's much darker under the water. I grope around, running my hands over the cavern floor. It's not lovng before I've got to come up for air.

A sudden idea occurs to me. Hoping it'll work, I cup a hand around my nose, concentrating. With some effort I push the water back to form an air pocket. I breathe in slowly, testing it. Clean air filters in through my nose and out of excitement I open my mouth. Unfortunately I haven't made the air pocket large enough and I choke on water. Shooting towards the top, I gasp when I break the surface, coughing.

"Find anything?" Zuko asks.

I shake my head, gather my breath, and dive again.

This time when I run out of breath I make sure my mouth stays shut. It's still too dark to see a way out, though. I run my hands along the jagged rock, not really sure what I'm looking for. What do I expect to find? A door? Hardly.

I spring back toward the top. To my slight horror, we're level with the tunnel now.

"Hurry up!" Zuko barks. "It's coming in faster."

If only I had five arms and could multitask. "I can't see anything down there," I say. "Light up the cavern."

"What?"

"You're a Firebender!" I throw back. The sound of rushing water spilling in is making me panicky. "Do something!"

I can just make out Zuko's silhouette in the dim light. He lets go of On Ji and shoots a torrent of fire toward the ceiling. A muted glow fills the cavern, lighting the walls and the water a grimly bronze. The flames stay steady—he must be treading and bending at the same time, not easy—so I take advantage of this and dive again.

Since the cavern is filling up, I've got a deeper dive. I punch out my arms and speed up my bending, jetting toward the bottom. My eyes burn from the water but I force them to stay open, the lines of my vision blurring. The glow fades momentarily before flaring back up as I search the floor, the walls, anything.

There's nothing. Nothing but solid, jagged rock. Even though I'm a Waterbender, the problem is that there's nowhere for this water to go. I can't extinguish the water like a Firebender can a flame. There's too much for me to freeze. The cavern is filling fast, pushing us toward the ceiling. I'm almost positive in less than ten minutes it'll be filled completely.

I rush back to the top. "There's nothing down there," I say, gasping. "No way out."

"This has to connect to something," Zuko insists. The fire is gone, but his pale face and gold eyes stand out in the darkness. "We're stuck in some type of drainage system. The Waterbending Elites will have to keep a running water source on hand to manipulate the arena—not just using the lake. That's what this is and there's got to be a way out."

For some reason I was attributing the water slide to Toph but I guess that wouldn't make sense. Of course the Elites would have their own water source and system. I wonder if Toph knows about this and carefully built her tunnels around it. Was it possible Zuko and I had somehow stumbled from Toph and Matsu's tunnels to the Elites underground water system? Very likely, considering he blasted through _a lot_ of rock down here.

I look at Zuko; he's starting to tire from treading. I pitch a hand forward and blow, a technique Pakku had shown me. It takes me a minute and I have to close my eyes in order, concentrating, until I freeze a small patch of ice. I guide it the prince's way and say, "I know it'll be cold but at least you won't tire."

He nods, grimacing when his arms drape over the ice to stay afloat.

"Can you blast out the ceiling?" I say, throwing a new idea out there.

Zuko looks up, eyeing it with care. "Not from down here," he says. "Without my footing it won't be powerful enough to break through."

"Well we have to try something," I snap. "Or we're going to be trapped here until we get hypothermia or drown."

I don't need to imply the irony of being a Waterbender trapped in water. Seems horribly unfair. If only he could bend fire under water. Wouldn't that be something?

Another epiphany. I'm having a lot of those lately. If I can create an air pocket large enough…

"Zuko come here!" Despite my request I paddle over to him. "I want to try something and I know you'll think it's crazy but we don't really have time to sit around doing nothing."

He eyes me warily, dark strands sticking to his forehead, falling into his eyes. He's still holding on to On Ji with a hand, the other gripping the ice.

Gently I push On Ji out of his grip and she floats on her back. Idly I notice the water has washed away most of her blood—we're most likely swimming in it. I try to forget that and say, "I want you to try to bend under the water." He opens his mouth in expected protest and I rush on, "I can make an air pocket, sort of reverse Waterbending, and if I can make one big enough you can bend inside it."

He stares at me. "You're right—that _is_ crazy."

"Crazy enough that it might work if we try," I offer. "Do you have any other ideas?"

He gives a resigned sigh, and we swim toward the bottom. He's so heavy he practically sinks to the bottom. I swim at his pace, not sure how he'd feel about me using my bending on him. My sight is blurrier than ever but after a few seconds after we reach the bottom, I see him shake his head, ready to return to the surface for a breath—but I reach out and grab his wrist, stopping him. Using my right hand I cover his nose and mouth, forming an air pocket. I do the same for me.

Zuko grips me wrist and breaths in and out, slowly. His breath is hot against my palm even in the chilly water. Once he pushes my hand away I form a large air pocket, expanding it about the width of my shoulders. Zuko slides his hands into it—and forms a steady flame.

A gurgle of bubbles escapes my lips I'm so excited. I demolish the pocket and we surge back to the top.

"That was amazing!" I breathe, after catching a deep breath.

"Impossible," Zuko murmurs, brushing a wet hand across his forehead and pushing back his hair.

"Once we get close enough to the ceiling you can blast through the rock," I say, still spluttering up a little water. I look up—we're close, only about five feet to go.

"It only works in the air pocket. It'll defuse as soon as it hits the water."

Good point. "What if I move my hands with yours, like I'm guiding it, so the pocket connects with the ceiling?"

Zuko looks hesitate. "That sounds like something that never works on the first hundred tries."

My arms are starting to tire so I make myself a patch of ice like Zuko's. I let out a deep sigh when I fling myself on top, not even caring how cold it is pressing against my cheek.

Zuko stares at me, silently resting on his ice. Finally he says, "You don't bend like most benders." He doesn't elaborate. "If this is going to work, we'll have to get it right the first time and I don't even know what's beyond the ceiling."

"I've always thought the only way to go was up."A corner of his lips turn up, but he says nothing. "We need momentum. I can take us to the bottom and surge us toward the ceiling. Just hold the fire and be ready to punch through the wall with all your mite."

"Is that all?"

Our faces are nearly touching the ceiling and I slide off the ice to give myself more distance. My peripheral vision shows me On Ji and guilt hits me hard. I want to get her back to her family but I don't think that's possible any more. I tried, and sometimes that has to be enough.

Zuko and I stare at each other a moment, no more smiles. This could be the last minutes of my life. I would either die from the impact of hitting the ceiling or hypothermia or exhaustion, trying to keep us breathing underwater. We were taking a big risk but my dad always says you had to take big risks if you want big rewards.

And right now, living was the biggest reward I could ever think of. Living to see the sun again. Living to see my brother. Living just so I don't have to die here.

"Isn't this the part where we confess something?" I say, almost a little desperately to hide my lingering fear. My forehead touches the ceiling; Zuko's face is tilted back slightly.

"Seems predictable," he says, almost smiling. "How about only if we live."

"Even if we get out of this mess," I say, struggling to keep my face above the water, "you're still my enemy, you know."

"You're still my enemy right now."

For some reason this makes me smile. "I confess that meeting my first prince wasn't disappointing after all."

His eyes flash, somewhere between amusement and annoyance. "You were supposed to wait."

"Another confession," I say between breaths, "I hate waiting." Then I grab his wrist and pull us toward the bottom.

Once our feet touch the floor, he wraps an arm around my waist tightly, that way I can use both of mine to propel us up and make an air pocket. I have no idea if this will work; I've never switched techniques like this, especially so quickly. Logic tells me this will either end brilliantly or in disaster.

I look up and all I can see is a dark mass above me. Not the ceiling, not On Ji's body, not anything but darkness. I blink and look at Zuko. He pulls a hand to his mouth and nose. I watch him, make an air pocket so he can breathe, and then do the same for me with my other hand. His warm breath is oddly comforting against my palm. We stare at each other a moment. Time seems to stop.

This is it. He nods once and releases my hand. I close my eyes and gather all my strength. I know I should probably think about everyone I love and mentally confess all my darkest secrets but my mind is oddly set on the sun. I want to see the sun again; I want out of his darkness. It's going to take everything I have and our timing has to be perfect. We'll have to be completely in sync, like we've been doing this all our lives.

Sometimes you only have one shot. This is ours.

My eyes snap open and I kick off the ground, hard, racing us toward the top. We're going so fast I can't even open my eyes. All I can do is trust in blind hope that we'll make it. I form the air pocket and feel heat radiate from inside it as we go up, up, up.

The air knocks out of me as we hit the ceiling—but light is blinding me. For a moment, I think I'm flying, and then I'm slammed into something hard, so hard my mind completely blanks. I know for a fact we broke through the ceiling because it feels exactly like that.

Time stops, and for a few seconds—or maybe minutes—I can't think or move. Then, my fingers knot into something sharp and soft at the same time—it's grass and broken pieces of rock. At least that's what my brain is saying, somewhere in the distance. My ears are ringing and I'm pretty sure I'm bleeding somewhere but I get to my hands and knees. Everything is _so_ slow; every movement, every breath, every swirl of color. I still can't hear anything but the ringing.

I look up and see something—I think it must be Zuko—getting to their feet, very slowly. I force my eyes to focus on the finer details and like rippling water, the images sharpen and still. It is the prince, and he looks shaken and terrible and wet but refusing to stay down.

_Stop you idiot!_ I want to shout. _Just sit down!_

But then I see something over his shoulder; something moves from behind, about twenty feet back, hidden in the trees. I wouldn't have seen it if I wasn't staring in that direction. A mop of messy red hair, unconealible with the trees. A bow and arrow pulling back—

To my horror, my voice cracks as I hold up a hand in warning.

It's too late. The arrow releases and pierces the back of Zuko left shoulder. He lets out a sound somewhere between surprise and pain and drops to his knees. Smellerbee loads another arrow but now I'm on my feet, trudging through the bits of rock that we blasted through. I can barely make out the faint water below.

"S-stop!" I shout, a choking sound, waving Smellerbee off. "He's on our side!"

"He's their prince!" She has that crazy, rabid look to her eyes that lets me know she's beyond reason. "His only side is his own. Get out of the way or I'll shoot you first!"

With strength I didn't know I possess, I turn and pull as much water from the blasted hole as I can. With a snarl I hurl a huge wave toward Smellerbee and encase her in water, letting the wave rise and rise until I freeze it. Her arms are spread out so wide she drops the bow; she's completely trapped. Satisfied—no way she's getting out of _that_ anytime soon—I turn back to the prince.

I fall before I reach him and have to crawl over bits of broken rock. "Let me see."

Zuko's pitched forward on all fours, head bowed, shaking. His silence scares me and I look at the arrow. A thick, green substance mixes with the bloody flesh.

The arrow is poisoned.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading. Sorry to end on a bit of a cliffy, lol. I was sort of inspired in this chapter by Katara in The Southern Raiders, when she bends that huge air pocket around Appa, Zuko and herself. I love writing Zutara teamwork..I really do think they make a great team. :D Thanks again for reading!

**Review Responses:**

**AA: "I imagine you just writing it as it happens because you treat the characters as if they were alive."** - I do write as it happens, but some stuff is planned out. The main events are planned, I should say, but the journey getting there sort of happens as we go. :D I've already written a particular character's death..not looking forward to publishing that chapter.

**Just Nine Letters: "Are you going to write a lot more Suki?"** - Yes! Suki is coming shortly. :D

**envyofclouds: "Are you really gonna end up killing off everyone except one victor? Or will it be two like THG?"** - I can't tell you the ending, but I will say no berries will be happening. :P I mean, would Ozai really stop that? Definitely not. I hated that ending in the THG. Bleh.

**blissedoutvixen: "I'm glad characters are going to die. That sounds heartless, and I'll probably cry, but it wouldn't be the games without death."** - True. I think it would be a cop out for me if I didn't include deaths. Makes it that much more impact on the growth of those in the sequel.

**Character Q/A**

**"Katara, if it got down to the top three who would you kill? Sokka or Aang?"** - Aang, but I think Sokka would do it so I wouldn't have to.

**"Katara, who is better looking: Zuko or Jet?"** - Jet on the surface, but Zuko has those eyes...*blushes*


	21. Phoenix Tears

**A/N**: Thanks for your patience. Had to get a new laptop and it took awhile to switch over all my stuff. Enjoy!

P.S. if you run across some quotes or lyrics you think fit this story, please leave them in a review! Sometimes it takes forever to find something when you guys might have better ideas. :D

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><p>"I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away." - <em>Broken<em>, Seether

**Chapter 19 - Phoenix Tears**

They say everyone reacts differently to intense situations. Some immediately start moving, feeling like they have to _move_ to accomplish anything. Some start spluttering incomprehensible noises, trying to fix the situation with reason and words. Some lock up completely, unable to move or think.

I'm pretty sure I do all of these things within about three seconds. Frozen, I stare at the poisonous arrow in momumental dread. Then I stand up and pace, only for about a second, before words start tumbling out of me as I sprint toward Smellerbee.

"What did you use?" I demand. "What's in that arrow?"

She's still struggling against the ice and pins me with a glare, gritting her teeth. "What do you care?" she snarls. "I did you a favor!"

I raise my hands and slash down. The ice trapping Smellerbee shatters into swirling blue water and she drops to the ground. Before she can react I pull the water back and slam her into a tree, pinning her once again with ice. Now we're eye to eye.

"What—did—you—use?" I say again, very slowly, my voice cracking and rising all at once. Smellerbee stares at me with contempt and incredulity. Before I can stop myself I lunge forward and slap her across the face, hard. So hard my hand trembles.

"Katara!" a new voice yells, startled. "What are you _doing_?"

I whirl around and my heart stops and speeds up all at once. For just a moment I'm trapped in those familiar, wonderful blue eyes. The urge to run into his arms—of seeing him _alive_—is almost enough to distract me but my mind is completely not my own right now and I've sort of gone into this crazed, nearly uncontrollable state. My head hurts so badly I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What's in those arrows?" I say, so frustrated I could scream that I have to keep asking.

Sokka stops, either at something in my expression or in my voice. He blinks once. Distantly I can see the hurt that lingers beneath his blank face, hurt that I don't seem more relieved to see him. And I am, of course, but my mind is screaming _time, time, time_! over and over.

"Spidersnake venom," he says, after I probe him again for an answer.

"What does it do?" I press. I trip over something—a branch, rocks, who knows—and stumble into his arms. He straightens me with a worried, anxious expression.

"Katara, you're—"

"_WHAT DOES IT DO?_" I scream, so loud my throat burns.

Sokka stares at me in shock—I must seem completely rabid—and then regains his composure and splutters out, "W-w-we think it attacks the cardiac muscles, paralyzing the body and causing heart failure. But we haven't really tested it on humans, just other animals."

I start moving back to the prince. He's collapsed on his side now, giving odd little twitches. I can hear Sokka shouting at me from behind but I don't stop. I fall at Zuko's side and rip the back of his shirt, exposing the skin around the arrow. Blood drips down his back, the wound around the arrow blistered and red and swelling, the greenish bubbling poison smelling like rotting flesh. It's disgusting.

"Is that—" Sokka starts. He gasps. "Katara, what—"

"He's probably going into shock," I say, ignoring my brother. "We have to keep him warm and get that arrow as soon as possible. Sokka, take off your shirt and put it around him."

When he doesn't so much as I move I yell at him again. "Take it off, now!"

Without another word Sokka shrugs off his shirt and thrusts it at me; I'm too busy to notice the look on his face. I cover Zuko and take off a layer of my own clothes. It's wet but I bend away most of the water, doing the same to the prince's clothes. I do the best I can to cover him, keeping him warm, but I need to examine just where the arrow went in on his shoulder blade.

I touch the arrow gently. Zuko groans and a hand knots in the fabric at my knee. He tries to formulate words but all I can make out is a gurgle and what sounds like "burns."

"I know," I murmur, running my fingers around the wound, trying to access how I'm going to pull out the arrow. I don't think the poison will hurt me unless it's in my skin, but I'm still careful. "Just stay with me, Zuko."

"You're going to try to _save_ him?" Sokka says, incredulous, finally putting it all together. "Are you insane, Katara?"

"He saved my life! I'll be damned if I let him die now." _And if anyone is going to kill him, it's going to be me, not a cheap shot with a bow and arrow!_

"He's poisoned," Sokka reiterates, like I didn't hear him before. "There's nothing you can do. He probably has five minutes at most."

"Water," I say suddenly. "I can try to heal him."

I twist and reach over my shoulder to pull some of the water from the blasted hole in the ground. Hama says the water should glow when healing. When I cup the liquid in my hand, though, it remains the same dull blue. I force myself to try anyway, concentrating, pressing the water against the blistering flesh. Zuko cringes and I pull back. I close my eyes, trying to clear my mind and remember Hama's teachings—but my mind is so worked up that I just can't do it.

"Come on!" My voice cracks.

Why can't I do this? I feel so frustrated I could scream. It's not working and I don't have time to keep trying. Furious and despairingly, I fling the water away—it freezes and pierces the ground like sharp needles.

Zuko convulses, his body tense with coiling pain, and what sounds vaguely like "stop" leaves his lips.

"Shut up!" I snap at him. "Just because you're a prince doesn't mean you can order me around!"

I catch a glimmer of silver around the prince's neck. Yue's necklace. Of course! I pull it over his head and give the tiny bottle a shake. Empty. Damn it, Yue! I exhale deeply, and my breathing shakes. Zuko lets out another painful groan and I grip his hand, squeezing, wishing I could somehow transfer some of the pain to me. I look around helplessly. My head is pounding so hard everything is starting to blur again, like I'm trying to see under water. Maybe I'm crying. I don't know but I feel so helpless and guilty and unworthy I can't stand it.

"Katara…" Sokka says softly. He reaches out to me but I jerk away. I know that tone and what it means. And I won't accept it.

I look up, anywhere but at him, and a mess of crimson catches my eye, just near the mouth of the hole. On Ji miraculously made it through the explosion, her tiny body crushed against the boulders. The flesh from her calf is shredded and bloody, the water no longer washing away the blood. Her clothes are ripped, her brown hair limp around her face. Another wave of guilt gnaws at me. Her family is seeing her at this moment, just realizing she is dead. The Elites won't take her body until we clear the area. She is too young to die like that.

I swallow hard, my hands shaking, my mind whirling in despair. What am I going to do?

"Let him die!" Smellerbee shouts, the sound of her struggling against the ice carrying over to me. I can understand the exasperation in her voice and why she must think me crazy. "You're just angry because he's my kill and not yours!"

Maybe she's right, but does it really matter? I stand up, teetering on my feet. I look around, eyes piercing the trees. The Elites can see me but I can't see them. I know they have Watchers and I know the Capital is watching. Their prince is about to die; how can they not be?

"Every poison has an antidote," I say, almost in a whisper. "Sokka, where is your camp?"

"Quarter of a mile or so."

Good. "We'll have to carry the prince there." I rub my eyes tiredly. "But we need an antidote."

Sokka looks at the prince. "I don't think he'll make it that far."

"Just do this," I say desperately. I can't begin to explain why this is so important. "For me. Please."

He looks at me with that calculating expression of his and I stare back levelly. Then, when I'm sure he's going to protest, he nods once. No more questions asked. One of the reasons why I love my brother so much is that he trusts me enough to know my reasons are justified, even if they don't seem to make sense right now. I give him a thankful nod in return, one that promises answers later.

_Ask and you shall receive_, Zuko had said. What do I have to lose?

I slip on Yue's necklace and start moving over the jagged, broken pieces of rock and clumps of dirt, trying not to trip. My entire body aches with each step and I feel incredibly weak. Blood drips down my cheek and I swipe it away. My satchel snagged on a rock and I scoop it up, not bothering to scan the contents or bend away the water. No time. I look up, addressing the trees and sky. Everything is silent, not even the soft cawing of birds or the sound of Smellerbee struggling against ice. It's like the world has paused, waiting for me to speak.

"General," I say, almost softly, "I know you're watching." Tributes never address their mentors like this, and General Iroh isn't even _my_ mentor. But I'm desperate and there is no time to hunt through the forest and find ingredients to make an antidote, even if I knew how, and I don't. "He saved my life and I owe him. I know you don't want to see him die." As if that's not enough, I raise my voice and add, "And he's your prince, Province One. He's too proud to ever ask but he needs your help."

And so do I.

I think back to when I met the prince in the caves, of Zuko's speech about honor. There is nothing honorable about dying with a poisoned arrow in your back. I won't claim to know Prince Zuko beyond a temporary ally, but I will definitely say he does not deserve to die like this. He should die with a sword in his hand or a flame in his palm, facing his opponent head on in a fair fight. No doubt, he'd burn me alive for asking for help, but my dad always says a strong warrior is never afraid to admit when they need it.

And right now, Zuko needs a miracle.

Silence rings over the arena. What did I expect, really? I slump to the ground and bury my face in my hands. A warm, sticky substance coats my fingers. Blood, but I'm not bothered by it. I can't even look at the prince right now. I wonder how much longer until his heart completely stops. I guess he's right—hearts aren't very practical, are they?

"Katara," Sokka finally whispers, "look."

I lift my head and follow his outstretched hand. A package drifts silently through the trees, carried by a silky red parachute. A sponsor's gift. I trip while getting to my feet. Sokka gets to the package first and holds it out to me silently. I rip off the tiny parachute. No note, but a small bottle of shimmering gold liquid says it all. I wonder how much this cost, and how much extra since it was sent in so quickly.

Zuko is still on his side, unnaturally still, but his controlled breathing shows me he's still alive. Sokka is right though; the prince won't make it long enough for us to carry him a quarter mile. I'll have to work here.

"Maybe I should—" Sokka starts.

"Move."

I sit on my knees, uncorking the bottle. My hands shake as I dab some of the liquid on my sleeve and start blotting around the wound. It's a luminous gold, almost translucent in its clarity, unlike any ointment I've ever seen. It practically glows and shines like liquid sunshine. Very expensive, no doubt. Zuko doesn't move much but tenses when I touch the liquid right where the arrow pierces his skin.

"The arrow has to come out," I say, blinking back the stars that dance behind my eyes, threatening to bring me under. Now is not the time to pass out. _Force yourself to stay strong, Katara! Fix now. Mend later._

"Sokka, hold him down in case he starts to move," I order. My brother obliges and even though I'm not sure the prince can hear me, I lean down and whisper, "I'm going to pull out the arrow. It's going to hurt but it has to come out or you're going to die."

His face jerks slightly. He can hear me, then. The poison must be limiting his movements or paralyzing him from speaking. Probably both.

When Sokka and I were little, he'd take us fishing and sometimes I'd get my fingers stuck in a fishing hook if I wasn't careful. Usually my dad would work the hook out slowly, but sometimes that hurt worse than just yanking it out.

So as I examine the arrow, I try to think back to the hooks. Which method would work best? What would hurt the least? Time was of the essence and that decided it.

I pull hard and the arrow comes out in a bloody slice. Zuko barely reacts. His body tenses completely and he convulses once. He must be in so much pain to even be able to move at all, since the poison is paralyzing him. Anyone who could properly react to that would have screamed and writhed in agony.

With the arrow out, I start dabbing on more of the liquid. It has an immediate effect. The blood starts slowing and I wipe most of it away, trying to clean the area around the wound. The skin is still blistered but the swelling is going down. I just hope the liquid gets into his system and cleanses the poison before it's too late.

A branch snaps. _Danger_, I think.

I get too my feet too fast. My head is pounding louder than ever and I stumble. The adrenaline is rushing out of me and I feel very feint. Exploding through a rocky ceiling and bending and rushing about is catching up to me tenfold. Now that Zuko has his medicine, it's like my body has decided to shut down. I wish I had stayed on my knees because the world tilts sideways and I fall. Someone shouts my name but I wave them off. "Just let me lie here a second."

Then darkness closes in on me and the last thing I see are a tall, looming shadow and a handsome face staring down at me.

* * *

><p>I wake up to the sound of crackling fire. My eyes snap open but I'm too dizzy to sit up just yet. Soft gold light filters in through the trees, the sun setting just beyond the green hills. I blink, forcing details of my surroundings to come into focus. I hear a pair of hushed voices but one stands out, one I don't expect to hear. I force myself to sit up.<p>

"Aang?"

Standing near the fire, the Airbender turns and smiles at me. Pure relief washes over me. Smellerbee gives me a hard look and stalks away into the woods. A hand squeezes mine and I jump. I hadn't even realized Sokka was sitting here.

"How are you feeling?" Aang asks, taking a seat next to me.

"Where's Zuko?"

Aang looks at Sokka with a frown and my brother sighs. "He's in my tent. Aang wrapped his shoulder, before you ask."

"Is he okay?" I start to get up but Sokka lightly pushes me back down.

"Take it easy, Sis. He's alive." That's one way to avoid the question. "I don't know if he'll wake up, though. He had that arrow in him long enough to kill him. It _should_ kill him"

I swallow hard. "What about On Ji?"

"That dead girl we found when we found you?"

I wince and nod.

"I reckon the Elites got her after we carried you and the prince away."

At least she'll get a funeral. I'll have to check on Zuko as soon as I Sokka leaves me be. And until I can stand without getting too dizzy. I sink back into my bedroll and turn to my brother. "How did you get us back here?"

"Jet showed up at the right time."

"Jet's here?" I look around the camp, as though expecting to see Province Six's tribute pop out of the trees. "What happened after the peace offering?"

"First, you tell me how you ended up with Prince Zuko," Sokka says, pinning me down with a hard look. "What exactly happened to you?"

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><p>It turns out I slept most of the day. Around dusk, I'm finally able to be up and moving. Jet returned a few hours ago with some sort of weird bird—I was too ravenous to care and ate the meat without too much complaining—and Smellerbee hasn't said a word to me all evening.<p>

Zuko was right when he told me Sokka killed Jiro, the Fire tribute from Five. Sokka doesn't sound proud but took it as no other alternative. I don't hold it against him. He shows me the supplies their group got from the peace offering—like the bandages, weapons, some food, bedding—and apologizes over and over for losing me. I reassure him it isn't his fault in the slightest, and that I'm just glad we all made it. When I ask him about the canon I heard underground, Aang tells me he had flown into the air to have a look at the flags. The canon belonged to Haru, the Earthbender from Seven. Nobody knows how he died. I explain to Sokka the deal I struck with Zuko, about finding Azula's camp to eliminate their resources. I haven't mentioned Toph's offer about Province 13 though, since Jet and Smellerbee were listening in.

After my meal, I wander to the prince's tent. He's lying on his stomach, shirtless, a white bandage wrapped around his shoulder and chest. For the most part Aang did a good job with the wrapping but some of the blood is seeping through the bandage, staining it a pinky red. That'll have to be changed soon. I hope they have more bandages.

I sit here awhile, just listening to the prince breath. Somehow this reassures me that he'll live. That he'll eventually wake up. I wish there was something more I can do but I guess all that's left is to hope and pray he makes it. I know how these games work but I just can't fathom being responsible for someone's life knowing they saved mine. More than once.

The flap of the tent opens and Aang walks in, carrying my familiar brown satchel. It's quickly turning into my best friend, sticking with me through these horrible games. Aang hands it to me and says, "You left this by the fire."

"Thank you." I give the inside a quick scan. All that's left is a minor healing medicine (which of course, has no effect on poison) and Zuko's crown. I pull out Yue's necklace and slip it back over him, careful when I lift his head. It doesn't seem fair for me to hang on to both our tokens when we had a deal; though Yue's necklace is proving very, very disappointing lately.

Aang watches me but says nothing. Then he pulls out something from his robes and twirls it between his fingers. I've noticed him doing this before but never paid enough attention to really ask. Now I welcome a distraction. "What's that?"

"Huh?" Aang looks up and I nod toward the tiny ivory figurine he's holding. "Oh, my bison whistle."

"Bison whistle?"

He hands it to me. It's smooth as a river stone, fitting into my palm. I've never seen a bison but I guess this is carved in the shape of one.

"Since we live high in the sky, we have flying bison's' that act as transportation between the three main temples," says Aang. "They're really strong and are used as carriers as well, like cargo ships, so the Capital doesn't have to waste air balloons."

I hand him back his token. "So why do you have a whistle?"

"Because Appa always comes when he hears it." Aang smiles a little, looking wistful. "I found him when I was six. I was picking apples in the orchard and saw the big guy eating them by the bushels. He was afraid I'd take him back to the bison house but I didn't tell anyone. Instead I'd sneak him more apples."

He laughs and I smile. "Anyway, he's grown now but I made this whistle so I could always find him. He's basically my best friend." Aang sighs, looking a little lost and glum. "I just wish I could set him free."

I know what that feels like; feeling trapped. We fall into silence and I ponder the idea of the creature on the whistle flying through the sky. If it can be used as a cargo carrier, it must be huge.

"It was phoenix tears, you know" Aang finally says, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?"

"Phoenix tears," he clarifies. "I examined the bottle when Sokka brought you back to camp. It's the only substance that can heal just about anything. Very rare and expensive." He smiles at me. "You must have a really high paying sponsor."

I shake my head. "Zuko's sponsor; not mine."

"Sokka told me what you did." I can't tell if he sounds impressed or disapproving. "About asking for something to save him. Why did you do it?"

Even though I already explained how Zuko and I had gotten trapped together and our miraculous escape, that doesn't seem enough of an answer for Aang. But that's really the only answer I have without talking in circles and overcomplicating it all. _You weren't there and didn't go through what we did_, is an honest response, but somehow I think that sounds too mean.

"Seemed like the right thing to do," I settle on saying.

Aang's voice lowers and he looks at the prince. "Do you think he'd do the same for you?"

"I don't know," I say honestly. "But it wouldn't change my decision."

"I'm just glad you're okay."

I reach out and place a hand on his arm. "I'm glad you're okay, too."

A scream makes me jump. Aang and I fly out of the tent just as a torrent of fire encircles our camp.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it. Zuko's fate will be revealed next chapter, don't worry! Two deaths next chapter. Any predictions? :P

**Review Responses:**

**Patronising: "If I read The Hunger Games would it ruin this story?"** - Nope! They both have the concept of a dominating capital running a death games with 12 tributes from 12 districts, but this is definitely different enough and the characters are quite different.

**xiLynnx: " will you expanding the story into the whole "lets get rid of the system" thing like in the actual books?"** - I don't want to give too much away, but there will be a sequel called Insurgent. The Hunger Games was the guide for this story, and Mockingjay will be the guide for Insurgent, so that should somewhat answer your question. :P And for those who love Finnick Odair, there WILL be an OC who is based off him. :D

**: "I thought it would just be another fiction that would just rip off of the original novels. I was wrong though."** - I've gotten a lot of reviews like this, and I just want to say a big thanks to all of you! When I read THG, I knew I had to write an AtLA compliant story with that concept. I'm glad so many of you are enjoying it as much as I am writing it. You're positive feedback keeps me wanting to write faster and faster. :D

**The Zutara interactions are just enough to keep the readers interested yet it does not take too much away from the plot, nor does it feel like the developing relationship is progressing too fast.** - THIS too, makes my day. Zuko and Katara's relationship is so difficult in this story considering the circumstances and it doesn't build in the conventional way. I really want to make it realistic. I think Katniss and Peeta in THG build most of their relationship through the experiences of the games, and that's what I hoped to do with Zuko and Katara.

**Character Q/A**

**"Katara, when Zuko showed he trusted you by letting go, how did you feel?"** - Scared, because we were falling.

**"Zuko, what made you trust Katara enough to let go?"** - The fact that I couldn't hold on mucu longer swayed me most.

**"Zuko, What was the first thought that entered your head when you got hit with that arrow?"** - Ouch.

**Updated list of ALIVE tributes:**

**Province 1 - Azula and Zuko**

**Province 2 - Mai and Chan**

**Province 5 - Ty Lee **

**Province 6 - Jet**

**Province 7 - Smellerbee**

**Province 8 - Toph and Matsu**

**Province 9 - Katara and Sokka**

**Province 11 - Aang**

**Province 12 - Suki**


	22. Fierce Midnight

**A/N:** Just wanted to say thank you guys so much for all your support. :D I had no idea so many would like this story; it keeps me wanting to write. Enjoy the chapter!

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><p>"I shall be telling this with a sigh. Somewhere ages and ages hence:<p>

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." - _The Road Not Taken_, Robert Frost

**Chapter 20 - Fierce Midnight**

My first thought is: _How did they find us?_ For a brief second, I completely freeze. Then I see Smellerbee and Sokka draw out their swords, just in time to deflect Mai's throwing daggers. Chan wields two flaming whips, lashing them around and lighting up the camp, burning everything in its path. The orange-gold glow of the fire sparks contrast against the midnight sky.

Now I'm awake.

"Try to put out the fire!" I shout to Aang. He nods once and whirls out of sight in a gust of wind. I don't have my water skin anymore—must have lost it somewhere in the caves—but Jet tosses me one of his hook swords and that'll have to do. The two of us sprint toward Mai, but our path is blocked by a flash of pink. Ty Lee. She smiles brightly, like we're longtime friends, but I don't hesitate and launch myself at her. She dives out of the way and leaps over my head, landing with the grace of a cat.

Jet kicks at her—she bounces out of the way with ease. He goes after her again, but she's much faster than him and extremely flexible. I have never seen someone move like her, to where it's almost impossible to get a shot in. She punches me in the shoulder and almost a second later, I hear Jet make a sound that lets me know she got him too.

"Back to back!" he orders.

I oblige and when I swing the sword at Ty Lee this time, I nip her across the cheek. She stumbles, but still manages to catch the back of my knees with a foot. I would have fallen if Jet didn't spin around and balance me. Ty Lee crouches down, tilting her head to the side; I would almost call it an innocent gesture if I didn't know what she was capable of.

"You're cute, too," she says to Jet, sounding oddly put out. "I don't want to mess up your pretty face."

He snarls and lunges at her. She runs at him and jumps flat out, her back parallel with the ground, and wraps her legs around his waist. Then her back arches, hands hit the ground, and she does a sort of back bend, launching Jet over her. He lands on his back with a grunt, his sword dropping to the side. He tries to get up but Ty Lee pounces on him, legs straddling his waist, and strikes him hard across the face. He grabs her long braid and yanks her head backwards, giving me the perfect opening.

Suddenly I remember I can move.

With a huge leap forward, I aim the hook sword at Ty Lee's exposed throat, prepared to spill her blood. She's fast, though, and expects my attack. The sword only grazes the skin, slicing a hissing cut. Not fatal, but enough to hurt. She lets out a noise of surprise and jumps off Jet—but not before hitting him in the neck, fingers as quick as lightning. He slumps to the side, limp.

Smellerbee shouts something inarticulate, some kind of warning, but I don't have time to react. I run at Ty Lee—but I'm thrown backward by Chan. He's blocking Ty Lee now, fists balled in flame. _Really_, I think tiredly, _Firebenders have such an unfair advantage._

"Go help Mai," Chan says, his hard gold eyes never leaving mine. "I've got this one."

"But—"

"I said go!"

Ty Lee gives Chan a disappointed look but says nothing. She darts in the direction of clanging metal, the sound of my brother and the others still fighting Mai. Distantly I think she's doing very well if she's able to fight off both Sokka and Smellerbee. But where's Aang?

"So, we meet again." Chan's gaze is predator like, sizing me up. Brilliant, orange-gold fire dances around him, controlled and deadly. "Maybe you'll be more of a match than that pathetic Airbender."

_He's trying to scare you_, I think. _A canon would have gone off if Aang was dead_.

Somehow I manage to smile at him; a cold, empty gesture. "Doing the dirty work for your princess, are you? I didn't realize you made such a cute, obedient little pet."

Chan snarls and punches a torrent of fire at me; I barely manage to dive out of the way. From the corner of my eye I see Jet getting to his feet, swaying, like it takes all his effort to do so, but Ty Lee is preparing to attack him, stalking the shadows.

I force myself to ignore it. I can't worry about him when I have a problem of my own, one that's trying to kill me. I have to tune out the other noises in the arena, the battle cries and grunts of Sokka and Smellerbee.

"Scared, Nine?" Chan shoots another wave of fire in my direction and I have to jump behind a tree to avoid it.

_Think, Katara_, I hear my dad saying. _How are you going to beat him? What's his weakness?_

Chan kicks swiftly in the air, fire surging my way. It collides with a tall tree, splits it and half, leaving burnt wood and tiny sparks of dying flame. He puffs out a deep breath and makes an irritated sort of sound. He's losing his patience.

_I'm smaller and I have better endurance_, I think through heavy breaths. _I have a good sense of direction and I have to lead him away from Zuko's tent before it catches on fire._

I peer from around a tree and my eyes find Sokka. His sword half raised, he stares at me, and I know he can read what's on my face. Eyes wide, he starts to shake his head but I turn and dart into the trees, the sound of my name ringing in my head as he shouts after me.

There's no looking back now. If Chan wants to kill me, he's going to have to catch me first.

Wind whips past my face as I run, nearly silent, swiveling in and out of the trees. The sky is black, casting shadows from the trees, concealing me. I can hear Chan's loud from behind, the sound like reverberating thunder. He's too big to cover the sound of his pursuit. I know he's smart enough to know he should stay with his group, but he's also too prideful to let me get away again.

His pride will be his downfall. And I'll make sure of it.

"Only cowards run!" Chan bellows, starting to sound a little winded.

Without looking back I yell, "And only idiots follow when they shouldn't!"

After a couple of minutes of running through the leafy dark forest, I wonder how far away we are from the camp—will Sokka hear me scream if I go down? No. If I go down, so will Chan. I won't die without at least taking him with me. That'll be one less threat for Sokka and the others.

Instead of running away from camp, I alter my path and start running parallel to it. We're far enough away now; I just need to keep running until he gives up. The ground starts to stoop down. I don't like running downhill, especially with flames licking behind me, but I don't really have time to reroute again. The ground breaks even only for a second before shooting back up. Once I clear the hill, I fling myself behind a tree so I'm out of sight. Chan runs up the hill slower than I had, and once he reaches the top, I lunge out and kick him in the stomach. He stumbles but doesn't fall, swinging out at me with fire. I lean back, missing the flames, but I don't see his foot—he kicks me right in the chest.

I fly back but roll to my feet, down in a crouching position. I still have Jet's sword and I grip it tightly.

Chan's lips curve up in a cruel smile. "At least this will be entertaining."

"Trust me—it won't be much of a show."

His smile widens. "Where's the prince?"

"Why, giving up already?"

I kick off a tree and jump into the air, pulling in as much moisture as I can. I slash both hands out while I'm in the air, one with the hook sword, the other with water. Chan doesn't expect it. He reacts to the sword, but I don't attack with it. Instead I freeze the water into tiny shards of ice and fling them at his face.

He jumps back but the ice slices his cheek. Catching his footing, he brings a hand to his face and looks back at me, all traces of amusement gone. Blood drips down his cheek like running tears. I smile at him and resume my stance.

"That's going to cost you," he hisses.

"Looking forward to it."

We circle each other. He bends with ferocity and intensity, I'll give him that, but he's also out of control and growing tired. The Elites have their work cut out for them, constantly defusing the fire around the forest before it goes haywire. Without their interference I'm pretty sure Chan would burn the entire arena down. I manage to avoid most of his blows, using the trees for cover. After I get another good hit in, I'll take off again, running down his endurance.

A piercing, terrible cry echoes through the arena, the kind that brings chills up my spine. It sounds far away, too far for me to recognize its source, but it's sharp enough that I know whoever it belongs to has lost. A second later, a canon goes off. Before I can stop myself, I turn in the direction of the sound, even though I'm too far away to see anything.

The distraction is all Chan needs. The fire licks at my feet and I jump—right into his arms. He picks me up with ease and throws me like I'm nothing. I slam into a tree, hard, and Jet's sword goes flying out of my hand. My vision goes completely black for a second and suddenly everything is painfully slow, stars dancing behind my eyes. My ears pound, echoing the beat of my heart. Why is the world spinning? Someone ought to stop that.

Chan reaches down and knots a fist into my hair. My back slams against the ground as he drags me deeper into the forest. I'm in such a daze that it takes me a couple of seconds to realize what's going on. I scream and try to pry off his fingers but he's too strong. Then, after I'm almost positive my hair is going to rip out, he throws me forward to the ground. I scramble to my knees—but Chan grabs my hair again, snarling, and jerks my head back. I have no choice but to look up into his hateful gold eyes, gasping and blinking. A cold piece of steel presses against my throat, daring me to move.

I open my mouth but Chan presses the sword harder. I feel an instant hot, stinging hiss of pain. I jerk but his hold on my hair keeps me rooted. And silent.

"Nobody can hear you," he says, almost purring. The blade slices my skin and I cry out. "Any last words?"

For a second I'm blinded with a searing hot pain and I have to blink back tears. _I will not cry. I will not cry_.

His grip on me tightens. He's dragging it out on purpose, I realize. Any decent warrior would have killed me clean right away. But not Chan. He cut to hurt—not to kill. He wants to intimidate me and frighten me before he kills me. But I won't let him. I can think of a thousand things I'd like to say. _Dad, please don't watch this_, comes straight to mind, even though I know he won't be able to look away now.

I grit my teeth but say nothing. My final act of defiance and stubbornness.

_I will not cry_.

"Nothing?" Surprise flickers across his face, but it's gone in an instant, replaced with annoyance and contempt. "Whatever, Nine. I wonder what I should cut out first. Those pretty eyes"—the tip of the sword touches just below my right eye—"or those lips." Chan brushes the sword over my lips and I all but jerk away.

He raises the blade.

"You will still lose," I blurt out, not because I'm succumbing to his wishes, but because I want him to know it. "Azula will kill you the moment she no longer wants you. Even if you kill me, you _still_ lose."

He looks down at me, his jaw working furiously in anger. I don't blink or close my eyes, staring up at the face of death like the warrior I am.

"Azula has a plan—one that involves me personally. You are wrong, Nine, and this is where _you_ lose." Silver flashes, but then—

"Azula always lies."

Chan's shock rivals my own. He lowers the blade and starts to turn—but Zuko overpowers him from behind and launches him off me with a snarl. I pitch forward to my hands and knees, gasping, clutching my bleeding throat. I blink back tears of relief and pain. I look up and it's like looking through water. It all happens so fast. I watch with blurry eyes as Zuko runs, snatches the hook sword from the ground and with one single, fluid motion, leaps into the air and crashes down on Chan, thrusting the sword into his chest. Chan gasps and clutches at the blade in his chest, blood pouring out of his mouth and from the wound. He splutters up more blood, convulsing, and then goes very still.

Chan is dead.

Zuko pulls out the sword, breathing hard. He's still shirtless, wearing only his pants and boots, the white bandages covering his shoulder. His muscles are tight with strain, sweat dripping down his back. He kneels down for a second, catching his breath, before looking at me.

"I guess Azula will need a new plan," I say weakly, my voice cracking.

He frowns at me. "Your throat."

"You're alive," I blurt, a little breathless. With the shock and adrenaline dying, I hadn't really let it sink in until this moment. "I mean, you woke up. We made it and then you were poisoned and I wasn't sure you'd wake up. But I got an antidote—your Uncle sent one in. And you're here now. Alive." I clamp my mouth shut, both because it hurts to talk and because my babbling sounds stupid to my throbbing ears.

He gets up and moves toward me. His cheeks are a little flushed from exertion but he's still very pale. He walks very stiff, controlled, like he's concentrating on something or fighting to stay on two feet.

A canon goes off, signaling Chan's death. The sound makes me jump, and brings my senses back to reality, like a haze has been lifted from my eyes.

"You idiot!" I snap. "You shouldn't be here. My whole diversion was to keep you and the others out of harm's way and here you are, throwing yourself at it!" _What was the point in saving you when you could have died just now?_

He ignores me and bats away my hand from my throat. When I pull it away, it's covered in a dark, sticky substance. Blood, of course. Zuko's hand is surprisingly warm against my skin as he presses a palm to my throat. His hand is larger than mine, too, stopping more of the blood. I swallow against his palm and wince at the pain of such a simple gesture. The cut still stings, the way ice burns against skin.

"You could just say thank you," he offers.

_So could you_, I think_, but we both know neither one of us will say it._

"That was…an impressive take down," I say instead, giving Chan a fleeting glance, urging myself not to flinch at the blood pooling out around him.

Zuko just grunts in response, now examining my face by tilting my chin left and right with his free hand. His scrutiny makes me uncomfortable.

"You're one of those types aren't you?" I ask.

He raises a brow, but doesn't look at me directly. "What types?"

"You take a compliment about as well as an insult."

He says nothing, looks at my throat another half second, and then starts undoing the bandage around his shoulder.

I stare at him for a second, and then, "What are you doing?"

"Just hold still."

"You need that more than me." I wince again. I need to learn to speak without moving my lips much.

"I'm not the one bleeding to death."

He turns just enough for me to get a glimpse of his shoulder blade. While there is still a reddish scarring, it certainly isn't bleeding. It looks so much better than it did last night that I could almost forget he was poisoned in the first place. So when he starts wrapping the bandage around my throat, I say nothing but sit still like he asks.

"We need to get back to the others," I say, getting to my feet when he finishes. "Sokka, Aang—"

"We need to get back because you'll need more wrappings," he says, cutting me off. "Not because of the others. One girl was retreating and the other was injured when I came after you." Something in his voice strikes me as odd but I can't figure out why. "They'll have run back to Azula by now."

I blink at him. "You were unconscious literally right before they showed up."

Zuko makes a face. "I could still hear a little. It was like being stuck between being awake and asleep, between pain and peace—I'm not sure how much was real and how much I was dreaming."

"How much do you remember?"

He looks at me, expressionless. "Enough."

I don't know what that means, and that's all he's giving me. He starts walking back in the direction of the camp. I follow—the two of us are so exhausted we constantly knock into one another, and stick out a hand to help one another with balance.

Even though it hurts to talk, I can't help but ask, "How did you find me?"

"I followed you and Chan," he says, like it's the most obvious thing.

"Why?"

He stares straight ahead, the muscles in his jaw working. Then his eyes flicker to me for the briefest second, but not before I catch that look. One I wouldn't have caught if I wasn't staring at him so determinately.

"I've never seen that look on you before," I say, fighting down a grin.

He gives me a side-long glance, frowning in question.

"Concern," I clarify. "It's a good look."

"I remember you saving my life," he says, voice void of emotion. "Don't mistake duty for concern."

I sigh, not really sure if this bothers me or not. Or why it would bother me to begin with. "Fair enough, Your Highness."

* * *

><p>When we get back to the others, a heavy silence hangs over the camp. I see Jet sitting near a dying fire, head bowed between his knees. Blood is caked on the back of his neck and his hair is wildly out of control. Sokka—bruised and dirty—is tending to a sleeping Aang, wrapping up an arm. For a second I panic, but then I see the steady rise and fall of the Airbender's chest. And yet—<p>

"Smellerbee…"

The boys look over at me, seemingly surprised by my sudden appearance. Sokka springs up and in no time crushes me to him, hugging me fiercely. When he pulls back, I have to massage my throbbing throat.

"I was just about to go after you," he says, his blue eyes wide with emotion.

"I told you I'd find her," Zuko growls, almost like he's offended.

But Sokka doesn't seem to hear him. "What were you thinking?" He demands angrily, giving me a shake. "Just running off like that! You could have been killed!"

I don't bother telling him I nearly _was_ killed. "I was thinking of all of you. Where's Smellerbee?"

Sokka's hard face softens. Zuko shifts uncomfortably and moves toward the edge of camp; Jet follows the prince's every move with his eyes from where he's seated.

"She—"

"The girl from Two killed her," Jet says coldly, moving his gaze from Zuko to mine. "The one with the knives."

"Mai," I whisper.

"I don't care what her name is," Jet snarls. "We lost one of our allies."

I wonder how much he'd care if he had lost a _friend_, rather than an ally. They are not one in the same in these Games, as Pakku never failed to remind me.

"So did they," says Zuko. "I killed the boy from Two."

"Then there's only three Fire tributes left," says Sokka. He gives Zuko a hard look. "Four, including you."

Zuko stares back levelly and crosses his arms.

"He saved my life," I say to Sokka, before a fight can break out. "Again. And I told you about our deal—we team up and destroy Azula's resources. With only three of them, we can probably kill them, too. We have numbers."

"Numbers?" Zuko snorts. "You think numbers will help you? Azula probably expected that guy from Two to die. She plots her every move. She has three left in her circle because that's how she wants it. I guarantee she's been testing them, sending them after you all, seeing which two she wants in the end. She wants a small group because she _wants_ you to think you have numbers and an advantage. But you don't."

"And why should we listen to you?" Jet asks, rising to his feet. He lowers his gaze to the hook sword in Zuko's hand, and his eyes darken with sudden rage.

Zuko tosses the sword at Jet, silver gleaming metal spinning end over end. "Because if you don't, you're going to die. You can't even protect your own camp."

"Stop fighting," I say, shooting Aang a furtive glance. I don't want him to wake up to our commotion when he obviously needs his rest.

"What are you talking about?" Jet hisses.

I look around and my heart sinks. "Our food is gone." I rush over to Zuko's tent, where we kept most of our supplies. I peer inside. Empty. When I pop back out I half shout, "So is all our supplies!"

"But how?" Sokka splutters.

And then I hear it. The light sound of cold laughter mixing with the cool breeze of the night. A confident, smug bit of laughter. Of course, I keep forgetting to factor her in.

Suki.

While everyone was fighting, she rushed in and took all our things without anyone noticing. And we only just _now_ notice, to boot. No doubt she's been watching us, waiting for an opportune moment. Luckily I still have my satchel, since I never take it off. But all that's inside now is one bedroll and the crown of a prince, and I have no idea how that could possibly be of any use.

"So we have no food or supplies," Jet says dully. "We have a thief following us, probably preparing to kill us in our sleep."

Zuko crouches down and touches the ground. He lifts a finger to examine it—it's covered in blood. He looks to the trees, deep in thought. "Two killed Smellerbee but she was hurt pretty bad in the process. We follow her trail. The blood will lead us to Azula."

"Aang clearly isn't ready to move anytime soon," I say firmly.

"Neither are you," says Zuko. "We'll leave at dawn."

"I'm fine!" I protest.

Zuko looks at me blandly. His eyes flicker to my throat then back to my eyes. "We leave at dawn," he says again. "Like I said."

His tone leaves no room for debate, and when I look at Sokka, all I see is a look of pity as he stares at my bandaged throat. Realizing I lost the battle, I huff and go over to check on Aang, deciding I'm not talking to any of them the rest of the night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! Kudos to those who guessed the correct deaths. :D Just so you guys know, we're about 30 reviews shy of 400 and at 400 you get a bonus scene! So be thinking of what you'd like to see as a bonus.

As we're getting pretty deep into the story, I'm going to kind of censor some of the Q/A's. For example, part of writing in one perspective is that you only know that perspective. If you ask Zuko if he loves Katara, I won't answer unless Katara knows that answer. :P Wouldn't it be annoying if I say he does love her but he never tells her in the story? Subconsciously you'd let that cloud your judgement on the story. So, just keep that in mind if I don't answer your question, as I don't want to spoil things for the remainder of the story. :D

**BlueRoses1212: "This may be random but is Ursa still alive?"** - This remains a mystery for now. You will find out in the sequel. :D

**happilyinsane13: "Your story goes at a perfect pace, and I'm glad the deaths are taking awhile. It wouldn't be realistic for most of these characters to be killed off so quickly. Over all, I really do love this story and I have a feeling you will surprise me with the ending."** - Your review was so kind! Thank you. But I'm glad you like the pacing; I didn't think it'd be realistic for these characters to be killed off quickly, either, especially with their skill and bending. I think the ending will definitely surprise people. ;)

**AnnaAza: "at first I thought "Aw, no. She's going to use the Spirit Water."** - She tried to use it, but there was no water to use. :P

**SamanthaNikole: "Hands down the best fanfiction I have ever read up until this point."** - Whoa! Thank you! *blushes* I am honored, and very pleased you like it so much.

**Zuma12121: "Phoenix tears SOUND exspensive! So was it really Iroh that sent them?"** - Since Iroh is Zuko's mentor, he's responsible for sending in all of Zuko's gifts from sponsors. Only sponsors can buy gifts, supplies, etc.-not mentors. But it's Iroh's job get the sponsors. The mentors are kind of like agents/PR specialists in the modern world, haha. So technically Iroh didn't buy the Phoenix tears, a sponsor did, but he obviously convinced a sponsor to. :D

**Everybody dies in the end: "You said you will have an OC like Finnick Odair, but I was wondering will he die as well?"** - Now you know I can't tell you that. :P You'll have to wait and see! There is no Annie like character, though.

**Jane Keybored: "I don't know why I'm so delighted with your defenseless Zuko."** - I always want to type "Jane Keyboard" by the way, haha. Anyway, thank you! I think it's important to show that even tough characters can be vulnerable and weak. Sometimes the guy is saved by the girl. :P One thing I love about Katara and Zuko is that they often save each other, not just one always saving the other.

**Maluka**: Just wanted to say I LOVE that proverb and Already Over. I have it on my ipod. Thanks for the suggestions!

**Character Q/A**

**"Zuko, who do you want to win the Games? (after yourself, of course)"** - I don't want anyone to win but me.

**"Zuko, when you said "stop," were you asking Katara to cease her healing attempts or just expressing that you wanted the pain to stop?"** - Both, kind of, I guess. I wanted her to stop healing attempts, then I could die, and the pain would go away.

**"Sokka, what was going on your head all the while Katara was frantic on saving Zuko?"** - I thought she had lost her mind.


	23. Venom

**A/N:** Thanks for waiting my faithful readers! Hope you all had a Merry Christmas. :D This chapter was inspired by the tracker jackers in the Hunger Games and cactus juice. Baha. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I forgot to spell check this one..so I apologize now for any horrible spelling errors, haha. Be sure to read the bottom Authors Note. ;) Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Add a few drops of venom to a half truth and you have an absolute truth." -<em> Eric Hoffer<em>

**Chapter 21 - Venom**

"That will never work."

Sokka lets out a noise of exasperation. "Why? What's wrong with this idea?"

"Everything."

"How?" Sokka demands.

I don't bother listening to Zuko's reply, since I've been listening to him, Sokka and Jet argue relentlessly over the past hour. Whenever I try to get a word in, I'm cut off by somebody or my idea is ignored completely. I'm not sure they're even arguing over strategy at this point, more like their own pride, and that's not anything I want to take part of. Their arguing is so loud they don't bother to notice Aang and I start to slip away. I mutter something about taking watch, but nobody pays much attention. I have half a mind to take Aang and we go hunt down Azula ourselves. We'd probably be at their camp by the time the other boys notice.

"You know why Azula and those girls are the strongest alliance in the Games?" I ask Aang, once we're to the edge of our camp.

"Because they're from the Fire Provinces?" he offers fairly.

"Because they're _girls_." I plop down on the ground next to him. "Girls aren't testosterone thriving monsters."

Aang laughs and pulls out his bison whistle, twirling it uncaringly between his fingers. "I guess it's just how we're made up, huh?"

I look at him and smile. "Not all of them. Besides, my brother doesn't like sharing the idea spotlight. He never has. Growing up, he was so clever and creative with his ideas. The Guards hinted that someday he'd work as an inventor at Province Nine, rather than an angler or hunter like most of the men." I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "I guess that's not really an option anymore."

"Don't say that," Aang offers gently. "That's no way to think."

"It's the _only_ way to think, Aang." I shake my head, as if I can shake out all my doubts and fears. "If Sokka wins, that means you and I are dead. If I win, you and Sokka are dead. Don't you get it? Nobody wins. The Capital wants you to think there's a victor but there's not. We all lose, in the end."

It doesn't matter how many times I have to repeat this mantra—_there can only be one victor in the Games—_it still feels like everyone loses. And there's nothing I can do about it.

Aang looks away, staring off into the distance with large, unseeing gray eyes. "I just hope it doesn't hurt when I die," he says quietly. "I don't want to suffer."

I want to throw back his earlier comment, that it's no way to think, but I can't say the words. Maybe it's because deep down we both know he probably won't be the last tribute standing, but neither of us want to say it. Not because he isn't skilled enough, but because the Games can't taint his soul enough to change him into a killing machine. I wish I can say the same for me. I remember Chan, how ready I was to kill him, if only I hadn't failed. If Zuko hadn't shown up, I would have been dead. Not because I choked on killing Chan, but because I failed to do it.

_I won't fail again_, I think determinedly.

"I'm going to practice shooting," I say to Aang, rising and straightening my satchel. "When Smellerbee..." my voice drifts away for a second before I right myself. "She left behind a bow and plenty of arrows."

I retrieve Smellerbee's stash from camp, tuning out the boys who are _still_ arguing—Sokka seems to have the upper hand, gesturing wildly with his hands—and go back to Aang. The quiver holds about twenty arrows. It's not as many as I'd like to have, but I'd be willing to guess it's more than anyone else has. I suppose the phrase _make it count_ applies in this situation.

"If you miss, I'll get the arrows so we don't waste any," says Aang, bouncing to his feet.

"Deal."

The sky is still dark, casting dark shadows on the ground. I pull an arrow from the quiver and take aim at a thick tree some thirty to forty feet away, using the darkness to challenge me more. Once my eyes adjust and I hit the target a few times, I'll pick a narrower tree to make it harder.

I pull back the arrow and release. The arrow pierces the tree, just to the left of the center, where I had been aiming.

"Not bad," says Aang, squinting into the darkness.

"Not a kill shot," I say, loading another arrow. The stringing on the bow isn't as tight as I'd like, but it's useable enough. I release the second arrow—it pierces the middle of the tree. Bullseye.

"How did you learn to shoot?" Aang asks.

"My dad," I say, hoping he isn't punished, but wanting him to hear how much I appreciate him. "He taught me everything I know."

I release the third arrow. And a fourth, and a fifth. I miss the tree completely on my ninth and tenth arrow, trying to hit the upper right corner I had been aiming at, and the arrows soars deep into the forest. Aang goes off to retrieve them and the other eight I shot. I load another arrow and close one eye, rotating the bow and my focus, aiming to pick a new target. Tree. Tree. Tree. Zuko.

My closed eye snaps open as the prince stares at me, arms crossed, lounging against one of the trees, gold eyes glowing in the dark. I laugh and lower the bow; somehow it doesn't surprise me I didn't hear him. He pushes himself off the tree and moves toward me.

"I could have shot you just now," I say. "You didn't even flinch."

"You weren't going to shoot me," he says, taking the bow from me and examining it.

"How's your shoulder?"

"This is horribly crafted, you realize that, right?" he says, ignoring my question. "Your aim would be better with a proper bow."

"My aim is fine. And beggars can't be choosers." I wrench the bow out of his hands. "Sorry it's not top of the line royalty craftsmanship, Your Highness."

Zuko shoots me a glare. "Stop calling me that."

"Isn't that what everyone else calls you?"

"They do so out of respect," Zuko argues. "You do it as a mockery."

"Katara?" I hear Sokka call out somewhere from behind, sounding a little confused. "Where—what are you doing?"

I roll my eyes and whirl the bow around, until I'm aiming right at my approaching brother. "Practicing," I say. "Care to be my practice dummy?"

"Like the time you were dared to shoot a sea prune off my head and you almost killed me?" Sokka snorts. "I think not."

"Hey, that's your fault for saying you'd stand in."

"I didn't think you'd follow through!" Sokka protests. "Nearly shot my ear off and," he says, pointing wildly to his ear, "there's _still_ a scar!"

I roll my eyes again. "Yes, and how tragic that would be, since even with two ears you have trouble listening."

Jet follows behind Sokka, sulking, and I wonder if he lost whatever battle he was aiming to win. Aside from the arguing, he's been unnaturally quiet since last night.

"I—" Sokka starts, fumbling over words, "—Hey, I don't have trouble listening!"

"Right, thanks for noticing Aang and I leave," I say, turning my back on him. I quickly load and release another arrow, aiming at a new tree. "Have you all finally decided on a plan? We're wasting time, you know. It's nearly dawn."

Sokka immediately goes into strategy mode, all joking out the window.

"We think Azula doesn't know about Zuko being with us," he says. "Those girls saw the rest of us, and they likely saw Chan take after you, Katara. When Chan didn't come back, they likely assumed you killed him. We'll have at least one element of surprise."

"So we're going to use that to our advantage," I say. Aang drops down next to me in a whirl of air, holding my arrows. "I think we need to see their camp before we make any concrete plans. What if they have traps set up?"

"They could," says Zuko. "I wouldn't put it past Azula. But that's not our biggest problem."

"I was sort of thinking Azula scoring a twelve and shooting blue fire might be our biggest problem," I say.

"The blood trail is nearly nonexistent and we don't know where she is," Zuko goes on, ignoring my comment. "The arena is huge, and we haven't even explored all parts of it. She could be anywhere."

Well, that's certainly a problem. Maybe we're going about this the wrong way. Yes, the arena is huge, with endless possibilities, but Azula has access to all the resources she could need or want. She doesn't need to make camp anywhere for _her_ benefit. But she might make camp somewhere for everyone else's benefit. Somewhere every tribute would need at some point or another.

"The lake," I blurt out, and smack myself in the forehead because it seems so obvious now. "She's got to be at the lake, the one near the Base."

"That's what _I_ said," Jet hisses at Zuko and Sokka.

"But it's too obvious," Sokka argues, sounding like he's repeated this statement a thousand times.

"Exactly," I say excitedly.

"Why there?" Aang asks me.

"Because it's the one place she'll figure everyone has to come back to," I say. "We all need water, and the Elites are purposely not allowing rain. Azula is using the lake as a trap, waiting to lure us in. It _is_ the most obvious place, and that's exactly why she's there, because it's obvious everyone else has to go back."

"The flags," says Zuko, his voice far away, like he's deep in thought. He looks to Aang. "Fly up and find them—we'll need to set off in that direction."

Aang hands me the arrows and nods. He leaps into the air, vanishing into the trees and out of sight. I was right when I originally thought having an Airbender around was useful. Saves me a lot of climbing.

"Get packed up," Sokka says to me. "We're leaving as soon as possible."

* * *

><p>Aang estimates a day or two walk. No more canons have gone off, which means Mai and Ty Lee must have survived. I search the trees as we walk, preparing for an attack from Suki at any given time. Once, I think I see something moving through the trees, but it could have been an animal. If it's Suki, I wonder what she's waiting for, or why she's following us to begin with. Toph and Matsu might be problems, but if they're still underground, I don't need to worry about them.<p>

Sokka and Zuko lead us through the forest, Aang and I in the middle, with Jet bringing up the rear. I can tell by the way my brother keeps shooting the prince sideways glances he still doesn't trust him fully—I'm pretty sure I don't either—but it still bugs me. Jet doesn't bother hiding his glaring at Zuko, either, who dutifully ignores it all. I wonder if he's used to receiving such mistrusting looks. But no, he wouldn't be—he's the Capital's prince. Of course he's treated with adoration and affection.

We stop a few hours later at the sight of a herd of fox antelopes. The boys waste no time at jumping at the opportunity for meat. All except Aang, who goes off to hunt for nuts and berries. Considering Suki stole all our food, we're all a little starving. I gather some wood to start a fire when Zuko comes back with a fox antelope of his own. Without his sleek Dao swords, he only had his bending and a rusty dagger Smellerbee had left behind. The fox antelope is a beautiful creature, with red-gold fur and long, black spiral horns. A white underbelly and patch of white around black eyes. The blood coming from its neck distorts such beauty, like a magnificent painting splashed with ugly colors. The grace and passive nature of these creatures makes me not want to eat them.

My dad always said hunters and anglers were warriors, but did killing something that has no desire to fight you back make you a warrior or a coward?

Zuko lights the fire before I have a chance to.

"I was going to do that," I say to him, scowling.

"Are you really that stubborn or do you just hate Firebenders that much?"

"Both, probably." I grab the dagger and start to skin the fox antelope, the way my dad taught me_. It's already dead, you might as well make use of it_, I argue with myself. "But it's habit. Fire isn't free in Province Nine so I had to learn how to do it."

"Anything worth something is never free."

I have no argument to that.

* * *

><p>A half hour later we're on the move again, our stomachs filled with fox antelope meat. Sokka had caught one too, so I save the majority of the meat and store it in my bag for later. Who knows when we'll be able to hunt again? Aang finds some lychee nuts and I much on a handful as we walk.<p>

Something moves from above.

"Stop," I say suddenly, halting, whipping my head to the trees. For a moment there's only the sound of bristling leaves against the wind, and then,

"_You!_" Sokka shouts against the rustling. About thirty feet in the air, perched on a thick, leafy branch, grey eyes snap open and a flash of white smile greets us. It's Suki, covered completely in mud and leaves and earth. No wonder I wasn't able to spot her!

"You…" Sokka starts again, stammering over the words, "thief!"

"Coward," Suki throws back, and leaps to another tree. Sokka takes off after her with a snarl and I have no choice but to follow.

"Shoot her down!" Sokka shouts at me, but every time I stop to take aim, Suki leaps or jumps out of the way. I can't shoot on the run—I'm not _that_ good with a bow—and I don't want to keep wasting arrows. Five is my limit and I've lost them all.

Aang leaps into the trees and moves at a faster pace than the rest of us, using his Airbending to propel him forward. He barely touches each branch, practically flying with each step. He catches up to her, we're still a little behind, but Suki swings around the branches and catches Aang in the face with a booted foot. He sways on the branch—I scream—and he slams into the ground. Jet rushes past him and jumps into a tree, quickly moving up the branches. I run over to Aang, who looks dizzy and disoriented, blinking up at me in confusion.

"Where is she?" Jet asks, some ten feet off the ground.

When I look up, I see Zuko and Sokka both in trees as well, leaving only Aang and I on the ground. Even though gold light streaks through the trees, it's impossible to spot Suki, camoflouged perfectly in leafy forest. And then I hear it. Sokka starts to speak, but I hold up a hand for him to stay silent. Without the sound of any of us, I can make out the soft chirping of birds, the familiar noises of insects and forest life, but there, underneath all of it, is a low hum.

"Get out of the trees," I say quietly.

"What?" Sokka asks, craning his neck to get a better view of me.

A splicing sound rips through the forest. The sound of steel slicing through wood, and I look in its direction. From about thirty feet in the air, a dark, bulbous form comes plummeting down. It smashes into the ground with a loud thud, landing no more than twenty feet away. The nest bursts open like a cracked egg, and a furious swarm of brown and yellow striped bees buzz and filter out.

"Get out of the trees!" I say again, shouting in desperation. I run over and practically jump on Aang to shield his body from the surge of angry bees.

Suki's laughter echoes painfully in my ears. This was a trap! Sokka blindly led us right into her trap and who knows what kind of bees these are? What if their stingers are venomous? I hope and pray they aren't, because one just stung me on the back of the neck. Another on my wrist, my cheek, my arms. Almost immediately, I start to feel dizzy. I pull Aang to his feet and start ripping out every sting I feel, each bringing on a new wave of dizziness.

Sokka, Zuko and Jet smash into the ground, and the bees now seem to forget about me and Aang and go for them. It's complete chaos. The buzzing, the stinging, the shouting. I shake Aang a couple times and he rights himself, snapping out of his daze. We're all running now, flinching and shouting at every sting. Tree limbs brush my face as I sprint past them, leaping over boulders and fallen branches. At some point Zuko yells for us to stop, but I don't stop, not until he grabs me from behind and shoves me into a tree so hard that I _have_ to stop. All I can think of is running and getting away from this horrible buzzing—what's wrong with him and why won't my head stop spinning?

"These are scorpion bees," he says, smacking one at his neck. "Smoke will put them to sleep. Airbender, you've got to work with me."

Aang looks like he's about to pass out but manages use Zuko's heat from the fire to smoke out the bees. For a few seconds, it's all I can do to stand still against the suffocating smoke and stinging of bees. And then slowly, the lulling buzz of the bees starts to slow, and one by one, they drop to the ground.

Jet collapses on the ground, muttering something under his breath that's far too fast for me to catch. He seems to get the brunt of the stings, his arms and neck covered in patchy red spots. Sokka gets down on his knees, as though he can't possibly stay on two feet. I catch Aang before he hits the ground, and slowly lower us down. I lay on my back because I'm far too dizzy to try to sit up, but everything is starting to feel warm and okay. Zuko seems fine, for reasons that seem totally baffling to me. The edge of my vision is painted black, the colorful pictures in the middle starting to look fuzzy.

"Why aren't you dying like the rest of us?" I say to Zuko, slurring a little.

"You're not dying—you'll just hallucinate. And they don't like Firebenders," he says, sounding very far away. "Our body temperature is too hot. I only got stung by a couple."

"S'not very fair," I say and blink again, very slowly. Zuko is staring at me now, hovering from above, his eyes so bright they look like two tiny suns. For some reason this makes me giggle.

"Your eyes are very bright, Your Highness," I inform him. "Someone ought to tell you that."

Zuko frowns and bends down, examining my neck, my arms, my face. "How many got you?"

"Hey Ka-tar-uh," breaths Sokka, from somewhere I can't see. "I think…I can't feel my face. Come and hit me!"

"Shh," Jet whispers, and the sound is so funny I burst out laughing.

Zuko groans and removes his hand from my throat. Golden light halos around his face, like an angel, but I don't dare tell him. Instead I bite back laughter. I didn't realize he was so funny.

"How long?" Aang asks. I look over and find him curled at his side, covering his face with his hands. "How long till the stars go away?"

"Depends on how many stung you." I think Zuko is talking. His lips are moving, at least. "Could be hours."

"Hours," I repeat, with long, thoughtful blinks. "Long time."

"We don't have hours," he says, sounding frustrated, I think. "Damn it, Sokka! Why did you have to chase down that girl? I can't deal with you guys like this!"

"Suki!" I burst out giggling again. "Right?"

"She has a face like sunshine," says Sokka, dreamily. "A 'eautiful face. Have you seen her face?"

"Your voice hurts my head," says Jet, groaning. "Stop. Stop. Stop."

I laugh again. Jet's voice sounds so funny to me. I'm kind of tired, I decide. Why are we even running? Where are we going? I'm too tired. I have to keep blinking or else the pictures I'm seeing keep going out of focus.

"I'm going to sleep for a lil while," I say, smacking my dry lips together.

"You can't go to sleep," says Zuko. He's bending down in my face again, and his voice, for some reason, sounds urgent. "If you go to sleep while the venom is still in you, you might never wake up."

I shake my head. "Tha's silly. I'll wake up."

"You don't know that."

"Listen, Your Highness," I say, trying to reach for him. I miss, but he catches my hand before it falls. "Something is pressing my eyes shut and they must close. And I'm so tired."

"Me too," breathes Aang, waving a hand in the air. "Jus' go to sleep, Katara, okay? I'll dream with you."

"Not tired at all," I hear Sokka say. "I'm gonna tell my life story to my new friend Jet."

"Not…your…friend," Jet slurs out, sounding miserable.

Zuko is still staring at me with some weird, strange look. His eyes are too bright, and they're hurting me. He's still holding my wrist, but I manage to touch his face, patting it lightly.

"Stop with the face," I say, sighing, and close my eyes. "Just sleep."

The prince shakes me. "Katara, you can't sleep right now. You have to stay awake with the rest of us until the effects pass."

"I'll wake up." Why isn't he listening to me? "Tell em, Sokka."

"How do you know?" Zuko presses.

"You did," I say, and shift a little on my side. I drop his hand. "You woke up. I knew you would."

"Katara," he starts, sounding loud and far away at the same time. "Katara, stay with me."

Eyes pressing shut, I smile. "Same words."

And then darkness takes me.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! Writing a hallucinating Katara, Sokka, Jet and Aang was fun, haha. Now as you might have seen, we have reached 400 reviews, which means you get a **bonus**! As it turns out, I've been waiting to reveal this bonus and am SO HAPPY I finally get to! **Zutara224** has created an amazing trailer for this story. :D I'm going to try to link it in here but if it doesn't show up, it's on my main page. Let me know what you think and a big THANK YOU to the amazing Zutara224! Be sure to type it in:

http:/www(dot)/watch?v=I-65mf8N8H8

**Review Responses:**

**Gryffygirl: "Will Suki be like Foxface? And will we see anymore of Toph?"** - Yes to both. :D Suki is pretty much the Foxface of this story, as some of you have noticed and you will see more Toph. I wish I could say more but you just have to wait!

**animalllover: "So I gotta say I was a little pissed that Katara hadn't killed Chan, but I thought it was so sweet that our 'knight in shinning armor' came in to save her."** - I wanted her to kill him too, but it sort of goes back to what Zuko said about her needing to be personally affected to kill. And she will be..don't worry. She kills more than one person by the end of the story. ;)

**DestinyCrusader: "And I guess I may have started to sound like a broken record, but you do sometimes tend to slip into the past tense."** - No, it's okay! lol All my other stories are past tense, and usually third person, so I tend to slip sometimes. :P The only times I do past tense in this on purpose is when Katara is referring to something that has already happened. ;)

**Victoria Kathleen Wright: "I really can't wait for Insurgent. It sounds just so wonderful, but I hope you wont make it as horribly confusing and abrupt as I felt Mockingjay was."** - I'm excited for it, too! I'm hoping not to make it confusing or abrupt as well, haha. I haven't read MJ all the way through but need to brush up on it, since it'll kind of be a guide for Insurgent, but so will book 3 of the actual ATLA series. ;)

**Enchanted Tears: "My overall point, though, is Thank You for writing The Black Games. Few stories with a larger plot maintain their entertaining quality throughout and are this entertaining."** - Thank you for your wonderful review! Honestly, I appreciate everything you had to say, and it means a lot to see that what I wanted to portray is getting through to my readers. My goal was to keep the characters as close to what we saw in the series, with the exception that they will be altered in the sense of their environment, but still recognizable. :D

**Jane Keybored: "I know it would be kind of far fetched if she did take him down, since she's been using her bending for, like, a month, and he's likely been firebending his whole life. BUT still! I wonder if she would have been sick about killing him."** - She really only learned how to fight with waterbending for like, three days, haha. It's considered illegal to use bending in Province Nine for anything other than day to day activities, and they're punished terribly for trying. Probably wouldn't have stopped Katara, but she has no one in her family to teach her, so she learned the things her dad taught her: how to hunt, survive, start a fire, etc. It's one of the biggest differences in my Katara and the one in the show: she's not a master waterbender. Yet. ;) But yes, at this point, I don't think Katara could have beat Chan in a fight since he HAS been taught to fight his whole life and he's a lot stronger and bigger.

**fishnamedjim: "good chapter, and is katara going to be able to learn how to heal soon?"** - I haven't decided if she's going to be able to heal or not. I think it kind of makes everything too easy if she can heal. :P I actually think her inability to heal with water makes her stronger, healing the way most people have to heal.

**daughterof..: "How would you feel if you had a boyfriend like Zuko?"** - Your penname was too long for me to type, lmao. I actually have a boyfriend of five years. :D He's great! But not much like Zuko, which is funny, huh? He does worry about mundane things like Zuko does, but doesn't have that temper or awkwardness. His name is Kyle and he's actually the one who got me hooked on ATLA. :D But I love still Zuko!

**Character Q/A**

**"Zuko, does Katara ever remind you of your mother?"** - A little

**"Suki, how long where you watching their camp?"** - Awhile


	24. Requiem For a Dream

**A/N:** Warning, from here on out, it's going to get intense and sad. Just so you guys can prepare yourselves lol. I'm guessing we have about five more chapters to go! I hope you enjoy the chapter. :D

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><p>"You're going to come across people in your life who will say all the right words at all the right times. But in the end, it's always their actions you should judge them by. It's actions, not words, that matter." - <em>Nicholas Sparks<em>

**Chapter 22 - Requiem For a Dream**

Part of me is sure I need to wake up, yet my body is rejecting the idea completely. Each breath I take is measured and long, and it feels like something heavy is pressing me down, like I've sunk into a pillow of clouds. I can't remember the last time I'm this comfortable and warm.

And just like that, reality creeps into my mind and I slowly start to blink. Either I am dreaming or dead, because there is nothing comfortable and warm about my lingering memories that press against my mind: the Black Games. The deaths, the fighting, the cruel and twisted game I cannot escape.

When I finally blink my way to consciousness, I'm aware of just how dark it is, and it takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust. When they do, that's when I notice a figure sitting against the base of a tree, not twenty feet away. Head bent forward, a dark substance drips down his face. His breathing is steady and low, but his body is very tense in anticipation.

"Zuko?" I call out, sure it's him, despite the darkness.

He looks up; his eyes shine gold in the dark. A flame bursts in his palm, illuminating his face in a haze of gold. With the light, I can see he looks very tired, his face tight with exhaustion and tension. He exhales slowly and leans his head back against the tree. The dark substance I notice early is blood, and it drips down the unscarred side of his face. A thousand questions bubble up inside me.

"You're bleeding," I say instead.

"You're awake," he says, seeming to dismiss my comment. "The others fell asleep."

I sit up and balls of dirt fall into my lap. A little perplexed, I glance around, and that's when I notice upturned roots and patches of earth, clods of dirt replacing grass and several trees split in half. It looks like a pack of enormous, wild animals have just run through and destroyed everything in its path. Now that I'm fully awake and listening, I can hear the familiar lull of my sleeping brother and distantly I hear more sleepy breathing. A quick glance around reveals Aang and Jet both sound asleep, with Sokka a few feet away, partially concealed under a large green leaf.

"So," I say, dragging my gaze back to Zuko, "care to explain what's going on?"

"You were stung by a lot of scorpion bees," says Zuko. "It made you hallucinate."

"I'm not hallucinating now—you're still bleeding."

"I'm surprised you're the first to wake," he goes on, like I haven't spoken. "But you were pretty determined to wake up so I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Scorpion bees—Suki!" It all flashes back to me in a rush. "What happened to her? Is everyone going to be alright?"

"I would think so."

"Why are you bleeding?" I demand. My eyes travel down his body, past his torn shirt that's soaked with blood, to the shining silver swords at his side, the blades thin and sleek.

"I got them back," he says, following my gaze.

I gape at him. "How?"

He sighs and closes his eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you _avoid_ too many questions?"

My back is stiff from sleeping on the hard ground, my muscles ache, but I manage to sit up and crawl over to the prince. His eyes are still shut, but I know he hears me. He has to hear me; he hears everything. I get to my knees in front of him, and simply stare. The gold light from the fire enhances his high cheekbones, the strong line of his jaw. The blood is coming from a gash on his temple, and his messy hair is wet with what appears to be sweat. And dirt. Dirt and blood, staining his face and neck red and brown. He looks terrible.

I reach up to wipe away the blood—and he catches my hand before it comes into contact with his face. His eyes are still closed, and his fingers close around my wrist. Slowly he lowers my hand to my lap and then pulls away his own. I'm not surprised he won't let me wipe away the blood or aid him in any way; he doesn't seem to like anyone doing anything for him.

"How did you get your swords back?" I just can't help but ask again. "Have you seen Toph?"

"No."

"Then how did you get them?"

"Doesn't matter."

His tone suggests my questions are pointless. As much as I like to pry answers out of people—I hate being kept in the dark—so far I've gotten the impression that if Zuko doesn't want to answer, he isn't going to, no matter how much I irritate him. Besides, it's really not my business how he got them, even though my imagination is coming up with some pretty interesting theories. I decide to drop the subject. For now.

"You stayed," I say quietly. "You could have killed us all, but you didn't."

He stiffens, but doesn't open his eyes. "Don't paint me out to be the _good guy_."

"Are you saying you're a bad guy?"

"I'm saying logistically," he says, in a very cold, controlled voice, "I have a better chance against Azula with four others on my side. It would be pointless to kill you all now."

Almost immediately, the words make me cringe. They make me feel used and dirty, like I'm just a pawn in someone else's game. _But aren't you using Aang and Jet? _a voice says to me. _Isn't it the same thing? _

I clear my throat. "I thought—"

"You thought what?" He opens his eyes, and it's like the liquid gold in them has frozen solid. I can't fathom why, but he looks angry. "This is a _game_, Katara. And if you want to win, you have to play all the right moves."

"Yeah, I can see that." I stand up so quickly it makes me dizzy and wobbly, but somehow I don't care; Zuko watches me in silence, making no move to steady me. "I had forgotten your speech about doing whatever it takes to win. I suppose you're doing a hell of a job. Your father must be proud, _Your Highness_." This time, I make sure to mock his title.

He says nothing, holding my gaze with a burning fury behind narrowed eyes. My fingers twitch, anticipating some sort of attack; sure I probably crossed a line somewhere. When Zuko breaths out, I swear I see steam. The flame in his palm goes out, but I'm still close enough to see him look away, his jaw working, fists clenched on his knees.

"I'll be sure to sleep with one eye open from here on out," I say, turning my back on him. "And I suggest you do the same."

I move back to where I awoke and curl up against the ground, too stubborn to complain about the whereabouts of my bedroll. If the boys are still sleeping off the venom, I might as well go back to sleep myself, feeling zero desire to talk to the prince.

* * *

><p>"I thought you said you've seen your sister's camp," a recovered Sokka says, the next afternoon, as we trudge through the woods. "Shouldn't we be there by now?"<p>

"I said I've _seen_ it, not that I remember exactly where it is," Zuko snaps. "I don't have a map of the arena. I saw it over a week or two ago and I've already gotten turned around in this damn arena more times than I can count since I lost my compass."

"So he admits his flaw," says Jet, slashing through the leafy hanging greens with his hook swords. "And here I thought Capital scum was _perfect_," he adds sarcastically.

"The lake is just a theory," I say quickly, before a fight breaks loose. Jet has been in a particularly nasty mood and never fails to slam the Capital every chance he gets. I can tell Zuko's patience is wearing thin, and we can't afford any arguments. "And she could have moved her camp by now."

We are almost to the lake now, the gold and crimson tips of the flags nearly visible. While I still believe my theory about Azula's camp is right, the problem is the area around the lake is _huge_. Technically, Azula can be anywhere in the area, and it's still more than a mile radius we have to cover.

The trees veer out and we step into a wide berth. Gold light spills into the clearing, giving what looks like lifeless wood and plants a little color. The clearing is too large to provide cover, and immediately I want to sprint across it. I don't like feeling so exposed, without the trees to shield me from unwanted attention.

"Do you even remember the lake when you saw her camp?" Sokka says to the prince.

"No, but that doesn't mean it's not near it," says Zuko. "The lake is small compared to the size of land. I just wanted to see what supplies she had and then I got out of there. I remember a tall willow, though, if it helps."

"Well, it doesn't," says Sokka in irritation.

My hair whips past my face as a gush of wind hits me. Aang, who has been keeping lookout from above in the trees, jumps down before us.

"Stop arguing," he says, sounding exasperated. "All you guys do is fight and you're supposed to be on the same side! For now," he adds, at the look Sokka and Zuko throw at him. Both boys give a resonated sigh, a silent agreement to put aside their differences.

Aang leaps into the air, floating in a sitting position—a trick he calls an air rollerball. He smiles down at us, looking pleased, and I send him one of my own. He seems to take the role of mediator in our group, and I'm more than grateful for allying with him.

"And here I thought—"

I will never know what Aang had thought, or what he was going to say. There is a loud _crack!_ that rumbles the ground, a flash of white-blue light—and Aang is blasted through the air with incredible force. He hits the ground, body crumpling, twitching, and _sizzling_. Not moving.

Almost instantly, a canon goes off, and it's like a terrible, painful noise that breaks the silence and shatters my heart. Just like that, Aang is dead, a smile still etched on his face. It happens so fast I can't even scream, can't even fathom what just happened. All I know is had I not been watching, I would never believe that lightning has killed my friend. Not fire, not earth, not water. _Lightning_. And I have no idea how that's even possible.

Cold laughter prickles up my spine, taunting, teasing. It rings through the arena, echoing against the trees, stinging my ears.

"Katara, move!"

Silver flashes in my vision, hurling its way toward me. Distantly, I know this approaching silver is a bad thing, and I ought to move, listening to that desperate voice demanding that I do so.

_But_ _I can't_, I think terribly.

Something hard knocks into me and I hit the ground, tumbling across broken bits of rock and dirt. Intense heat surrounds me, a wave of dizziness threatening to take me under. Trapped under a heavy body, all I can make out is a blur of gold-orange fire from under the cracks of strong arms. I start to cough from the smoke, and the body lifts off me.

"Aang." My voice breaks, and suddenly I'm pulled to my feet. Someone is shaking me.

"Katara, he's dead, and you will not be joining him!" It's Sokka, looking at me desperately. "Promise me you'll listen to me and do whatever I say." I stare at him and he shakes me, hard. "Promise me!"

"I promise."

He grips my hands and starts pushing me away from him, away from Zuko's fire and Mai and Ty Lee. "Go," he says raggedly. "Run back to the woods, get to a tree and use your bow."

"Sokka—"

"You promised! And I promised Dad to protect you and I can't do that if you're down here when I need you up there!" He gives me a final push, letting go of my hands. "Now go!" Pulling out his sword, he jumps back into the fight.

Biting back tears—tears at losing Aang, at Sokka—I turn, and then stop. Jet vanishes into the woods, brandishing his hook swords. What is he doing? Maybe he's going to attack from another angle. I can't worry about that now, I decide quickly, because Sokka needs me. Instead I run out of the clearing, deeper into the woods, looking for a tree I can climb quickly, but one that will support me and give me range. Turning my back on the enemy isn't my preference, but Sokka is right: I can't shoot from the ground. I get a quarter of the way up a tree when a knife slices into the wood, barely missing my hand. Gasping, I rip it out and bite on the hilt, having no time to store it anywhere, and continue to climb. Whoever is fighting Mai is not doing a good job.

The branches are rough, cutting into my fingers, and my ankle is still sore from when I hurt it, and the brace will need replaced soon. It takes a bit of effort when I finally reach a stable branch. I take a deep breath, steadying myself, trying to ignore the sounds of battle cries, when all I can hear is _Aang is gone_ ringing in my head. I don't even know who he left behind—did he have a family? Brothers? Sisters? How come I never asked? And now I'll never know.

I almost heave, and probably would have, but suddenly I hear Zuko shout, a painful sort of sound that distracts my nausea. My gaze sweeps to his direction, anxious. The prince drops to his knees; Ty Lee bounces away and lands in a crouch, eyeing the prince with a mischievous smile. He looks up with livid eyes, but Ty Lee doesn't flinch. Zuko rubs his neck before getting to his feet. He gives a growl and punches out a hand—and nothing. No fire.

"Pretty hard to fight without your bending," says Mai in a monotone voice, loud enough for me to hear.

Zuko looks at her, fury burning behind his eyes. He pulls out his Dao swords and I barely make out his muffled "I'll manage," before he leaps toward Mai.

Sokka takes a fist to his head and stumbles backwards. Ty Lee takes advantage of his mishap and runs at him. He whirls around, barely missing her, and slashes out with his sword. Ty Lee sticks out a foot and knocks him behind the knees, sending him to the ground. She pauses to flash him a smile, and then spins around, taking off toward my left, into the woods.

"Sokka, don't!" I shout, but he's already on his feet and running after her.

"_Stay here_!" he yells, and although he doesn't turn, I know he's talking to me.

I pull out my bow and load an arrow so quickly my hands are shaking. Without pause, I send it flying at Ty Lee. It misses, and she vanishes through a haze of leafy greens, my brother trailing after her. Angry at myself, at my brother, at the world, I work the bow around to target Mai. She's constantly in motion, and I miss horribly on my first two tries. She draws out long twin daggers, using them to counteract Zuko's Dao swords. I load another arrow and close an eye. _Focus, focus, focus_.

I release the arrow.

Again, I miss by a long shot. I'm too far away and I can't hit her from this range. I jump down a branch, then another two, and finally land on the ground. Pain shoots up my legs at the impact but I grit my teeth and run forward into the clearing, but still far enough away that they won't see me. Sweat drips down my neck as I load another arrow, take aim, and release. This one grazes Mai in the arm, cutting into the fabric of her long sleeves; she jerks away, and I shoot another arrow. It misses, but she's distracted by me enough that she doesn't see Zuko's foot coming, and it collides with her face, sending her flying backwards; she lands flat on her back, dropping her daggers. When she reaches for one, Zuko kicks it aside and pins her down with a foot to her chest. Blood trickles down from her mouth, but her expression is utterly blank.

"_Azula!_" Zuko's voice cuts through the air. Fury radiates off him in waves of heat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aang's lifeless body, but I force myself toward the prince, keeping my hold on the arrow already set in place, ready to shoot anything that moves. Zuko's shout is answered in silence, the only sound the gentle breeze of the wind rattling the leaves of the trees.

_Why isn't he killing Mai?_ I wonder. What's he waiting for? If he'd just move, I can shoot her in the chest, but shooting her in the leg will do little good.

Zuko leans down to Mai, pressing a sword to her throat. I can't hear what he's saying, just the low murmur of angry words. Whatever she says in return, he must not like, because he reaches down and grasps her throat.

My hold on the bow falters and for a moment, I'm sure he's going to strangle her to death; she isn't even fighting back, just trying to pry off his fingers. When her face turns nearly purple, the prince releases her.

"_Where is she?_" Zuko demands, so loud it rings in the clearing. "I will torture it out of you before I kill you if I have to!"

Mai coughs and spits up blood. "All the pain and torture in the world will not help you win." She wipes her mouth, leans her head back, and closes her eyes. "If you're going to kill me, just do it already."

"I'm not going to kill you."

_Yet_, I think.

"Maybe he won't," says a voice, "but I will!"

I whirl around, but Jet flies past me and knocks Zuko out of the way. He raises a sword, preparing to send Mai the final blow—

"Stop!" Zuko shouts, catching the hook sword by the blade with a hand. "We need her to find Azula! This is the venom effects still messing with your mind, clouding your judgment."

Jet snarls and tackles Zuko to the ground. When he rolls to his feet, he lashes out, and Zuko's blades clash into Jet's. Blood drips down Zuko's arm from his palm, the palm that clutched around Jet's blade.

_But they are not my problem_. I rush over to Mai, keeping my arrow in place. She still hasn't bothered to move, lying in a pool of black fabric.

"You'll never beat her," she says, smiling a bloody, terrible smile. I know she can only be talking about one person.

"Neither will you." I aim the arrow at her chest. "And you won't be around long enough to see me try."

Right now, I can end Mai's life. That's one less player in the Games. But Zuko wants her alive to question her. Will he be angry if I do it? Mai isn't even resisting, not even bothering to fight me back. Is it honorable to kill someone who won't fight you back? Does honor even _matter_ anymore?

Mai gives a heavy sigh, sounding bored or in pain, I can't really tell. "Where's that brother of yours?"

My stomach immediately twists because I don't know. Zuko and Jet's clanging of metal and angry grunts are not helping either. I wish they'd stop, because the real enemy is the one staring at the tip of my arrow, the one who isn't even fighting. I should probably try to intervene or talk some sense into Jet, but I can't take my eyes off Mai. She might be pretending to surrender but I don't trust her for a second.

"Did he abandon you?"

"No." The arrow in my hand shakes, and I fight for control. "He's fine. Your little acrobat stands no chance."

"Then he should have come back by now," says Mai, emotionless.

"Shut up!"

"Such a predicament, isn't it?" She rises slightly so she's resting on her elbows. Blood drips down the edge of her mouth, and her robes are torn and dirty. "Those idiots are too busy fighting each other, leaving you with the decision of going after your brother or guarding me. If you go after your brother, I'll be gone before either of them notice. But if you stay here, your brother may die and it'll be too late."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zuko uppercut Jet in the jaw, causing Jet to stumble backwards. The arrow shakes terribly in my grasp, and I'm so angry at myself for letting Sokka chase after Ty Lee that all I can do is take out my anger on Mai. I shouldn't have listened to him; I should have run after him instead.

_I'm sorry you want her as leverage, Zuko, but my brother is worth more than information_. I hope my dad isn't watching this because he won't be proud of kicking while someone is already down. I aim the arrow at Mai's chest—she stares back levelly, ready to face her death—and pull back—

"No!"

Something hard crashes into me just as I release the arrow, so hard my arms jerk and the arrow shoots toward the ground, just to the right of Mai's head. My body slams into the ground and when I roll to my knees, I'm completely disoriented for a moment. I'm so furious when I finally get to my feet that I punch the figure trying to help me up. I whirl around to find that Mai is gone. I barely manage to catch the flash of black robes disappearing through the edge of the woods.

"I had her!" I shout, turning angrily, to find Zuko massaging his jaw and looking at me with pure hatred. "What is wrong with you, Zuko?"

"We needed her to find Azula!" he all but snarls at me.

"Well she's gone now!" My voice takes on a hysterical edge. "She's gone back to Azula because of you!" I'm shaking, pacing, literally about to kill the prince where he stands. Suddenly a new horror occurs to me. "We have to find Sokka. He's out there alone and he needs me. He doesn't know about Mai!"

"Jet is going after him." Zuko exhales slowly, and I know losing Mai is making him far angrier than he's letting on. "We stay here and wait."

"Jet?" I stare at the prince in disbelief. "A moment ago you were trying to kill each other!"

Zuko shakes his head. "Just trying to get him to see sense. The venom lingers in your system and affects everyone differently."

_I'm just fine_, I think, wondering how he's this calm when I'm so worked up. I start taking off but the prince moves at that blinding speed of his, stopping me with a firm hand around my wrist. I look down at his bloody hand, staining my own skin a furious shade of red. This time his blood brings me no pity.

"Let go of me," I breathe, threateningly.

"This is a trap, Katara," he says, trying to sound reasonable, only I'm past reason. "Sokka was stupid enough to fall for it. You'll only make things worse for him if you follow."

"I can't stay here knowing he's is out there and might need my help. Promise or not." I need Zuko to understand, but the blank look he gives me shows he doesn't. And this makes me angry.

"You have no idea what it feels like to love someone so much you would risk your own life for them," I say harshly. "Just because you know nothing of family love doesn't mean the rest of the world is ignorant to it! Go find your sister, kill her to prove whatever it is you're proving, but I'm going to find my brother because I _love_ him and want to _save_ him." I take a shuddering breath and my gaze drops to the ground. I'm on the verge of tears, but I refuse to cry.

"This isn't just a game to me." My voice shakes. "Now let me go."

Slowly, he releases me and I don't even give him a fleeting glance as I take off toward the woods. All I can think about is finding Sokka, praying he either kills Ty Lee or gets away. And I think of Aang, my first ally and friend in the Games, and hope and pray his death was not painful, just like he wanted. Even though it hurts to think about, I suppose dying with a smile was the best way for him to go.

I feel the prince's stare on my back as I run into the woods, but I don't look back.

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><p><strong>AN:** Yeah, I know. :( Poor Aang. I knew all along his death would be swift, Azula shooting lightning like in the series. It shows Katara just how quickly someone can die in the Games, and I'm not sure she really grasped that till now. It alters her attitude, which you'll see in upcoming chapters. Thanks for reading, and I'm sorry for the sudden death, but it was intended that way. On another note, there will be **no more character questions/answers** for the remainder of the story. *evil smirk* It's getting to the end, so no secrets shall be revealed. :D

**Review Responses:**

**me38242: "Which means that Zuko puts his OWN bloodstained bandages and reuses them on Katara?"** - Yes, he does. :P Kind of gross, I agree, but the Games are not designed for cleanliness. It's kind of the least of their worries. Also, I responded to your Zuko and Katara analysis through PM because it was so long! lol Let me know if you have problems viewing it.

**"Are you a professional writer/majoring in creative writing or english of any sort?"** - Aw, such a nice compliment! No, I'm not either of them! Someday I hope to become a professional writer, hopefully writing for Young Adult Fantasy/Romance. Currently I'm a college student, 23 years old, and my major revolves around tourism. I wanted to become an event planner but over the past few years I've found my real love is writing. And cooking, lol. Opening a restaurant is another dream. :D I've been writing fanfiction for about..two years? Maybe three? Not too long.

**"So... do people just not brush their teeth? Sorry this is a trollish question and I don't mean for it to be, but yeah, I've wondered."** - Haha this made me laugh! Okay so if you've read Harry Potter, can you remember many times where Harry discusses going to the bathroom, shaving, brushing his teeth, etc. I can't, accept for Goblet of Fire, when he has to take a bath to find out the clue to the egg. :P But we still assume he's doing them, yeah? Point being, in most stories, authors tend to leave out those minor details. If it doesn't enhance the plot, why bother writing it? Instead of saying: Katara woke up, she brushed her hair, she tied her hair back, she stretched, she shaved her legs, she brushed her teeth, etc. I might paraphrase and say "Katatara woke and got ready for the day." See what I mean? :D But that doesn't necessarily pertain to THIS story, does it? In this story, no, Katara has not been able to brush her teeth because she has no toothbrush or toothpaste. She was waxed before going in, so shaving isn't much of an issue at least. But things like using the bathroom-outside, of course-I leave out because it does nothing to enhance the plot. Hope I made sense..this was rather long, haha.

**"And about the watchers-is everything live or is it prerecorded and then edited for show?"** - The Watchers record everything live. :D But they don't capture every moment, because there's only so many of them, and they want to capture only "exciting" moments. They'd more likely record a fight than say, Katara walking through the woods alone.

**Like A Dove: "I do have a few theories on how you're going to end this."** - I would love to hear them! This goes for everyone, really. I'm curious to see how you all think this story will end. Though keep in mind there IS a sequel, so this ending shouldn't send anyone panicking too badly. I think. Also, glad you like the mesh of both worlds, Like A Dove! It's been really fun to write, and especially the Zutara relationship. Hope this chapter doesn't crush your faith in them. :P After all, there can't be resolution without some conflict.

**happilyinsane13: "I think you are write the action scenes very well! You are also good with the characters emtions and keeping them IN character."** - Thank you! I find action scenes soooo hard. Emotional scenes are much easier for me. Action scenes take forever to write, and this chapter particularly was arranged about five different ways before the final result. :P

**Enchanted Tears: "I actually really want to know what Zuko's reaction to her "same words" comment would be."** - I'd think the comment confused him. Katara meant "same words" because he said "Stay with me" and it's the same words she said to him when he was hit with the arrow. But Zuko might not have been coherent enough to remember her saying that. :P

**"but I'd still prefer if Zuko had some competition for Katara."** - I'm so glad you brought this up because I wanted to talk about this! Prepare yourselves for a long comment, just a warning. Anyway, so often we refer to competition as another person. A love triangle, if you will. So of course Jet comes to mind. I think Jet thinks Katara is pretty, but why would he want to develop feelings for her? No sane person would want to develop feelings for someone who has to die for you to live.

But that doesn't mean just because Jet isn't interested in Katara that Zuko has no competition, because he does. It's just not another person. It's himself and the games in general. What I mean by himself is you have the Zuko we saw at the beginning of the story, the one driven by honor of pleasing his father, of doing whatever it takes to win, one that does not want to develop feelings for anyone in the games. But then you have another side of Zuko, which is more of potential Zuko because I'm not saying he's there right now: one that puts others before himself, one that might let himself care for someone he shouldn't, one that would let himself lose so she could win and live. Zuko is his own competition, two sides of the same coin. He struggles with himself in the actual series, so I wanted to do that here, too. So I guess it comes down to which Zuko will win? The one he has always been or the one he could be? This, I think, is much more competition than another person could be. :P

**Lady of the Hunt: "For what purpose could the Firelord/President have for putting his kids in to make these games stand out amongst the other years' Games?"** - To give away Ozai's intentions..lol. I'll just scratch the surface here. They stand out because they are just that: his own children. The royal prince and princess, the golden children of the world. Of course people are going to want to watch that. He also does it to send out a message: he is cold and ruthless and unyielding, enough so that he offers up his children. He sends out this message because of reasons that will be later given. :D He also does it because he was sent in as a tribute himself-and wins-just as Iroh had been. Family tradition, if you will. There are other reasons, but I will save those for later.

**Justice333: "I can't wait to see how the bonus chapter turns out!"** - In case anyone missed it, the bonus is the trailer for the story that I've linked in my profile! No written bonus, though. Just the trailer; which is amazing, so if you haven't seen it, go watch it! :D

**Kailigh mobile: "And are you going to have both tributes of the provences win or abandon that part of the book completely?"** - This spoiler I will give away: two winners from the same province will NOT be allowed. Ozai would never allow that, and he'd never allow two winners. Not even Azula and Zuko.

**DestinyCrusader: "You write in a way where we can tell that although dying is not something you'd like to happen to these characters, its something inevitable and its real all the same. Does that make sense?"** - Yes! It makes perfect sense. :D I think part of a good story is writing the inevitable. Technically I could write some miraculous escape, but I'd be doing it simply because I hate killing characters, and in the end it would weaken the story. And the quality of the story is important to me, no matter how much it hurts to kill characters I love. I also don't kill them because I can; the deaths serve a purpose to the plot. :D

**"I'm glad she didn't kill Chan, because that would so not make sense. Katara's not invincible. No one is."** - Very true. Katara wasn't powerful enough to take on Chan, who has two years on her, many years of fighting on her, and is physically much stronger AND has his own element at his disposal. I hope Katara doesn't seem too weak in this story, because I've tried showing her strengths in more than just physical strength. But the truth is that not having her element-which she is still limited in experience-weakens her greatly. Which is why Pakku says how hard it is for a Waterbender to win. Therefore Katara has to rely on other strengths. ;) And at the end of the day, the last standing person is the winner, no matter how they got there. The weakest person physically can win if they are the smartest. :D

And your review did make me smile, by the way! I really appreciate it, and while I'm NOT a Goddess, that comment made me laugh and smile at the same time. :D This goes for everyone: THANK YOU for such wonderful comments. It keeps me writing and wanting to continue.

**Random Reader: " I think it's pulled off better here than the romance in HG."** - Well thank you, first of all! Spoiler for those who haven't read The Hunger Games, stop now if you don't want spoiled! The problem, at least for me, with the romance in THG was the fact that it was staged from the start. Warped into this star crossed lovers bit that becomes super annoying because all Katniss thinks about during every kiss/embrace/touch is "is the Capital and Haymitch watching?" Total mood killer you are, Katniss, lol. I think the romance would have been better if it happened naturally, and Katniss and Peeta truly fell in love during the games.

**"Any thoughts on if/who you might support in this?"** - This was geared towards Aang, who he wants to win. I know I said no more character questions/answers but poor Aang is gone but I want to answer this anyway. I think Aang would want Katara to win, and even though he doesn't support killing, he knows someone has to win in the end and he'd want it to be her.

**Updated list of ALIVE tributes:**

**Province 1 - Azula and Zuko**

**Province 2 - Mai **

**Province 5 - Ty Lee **

**Province 6 - Jet**

**Province 8 - Toph and Matsu**

**Province 9 - Katara and Sokka**

**Province 12 - Suki**


	25. Fatal Fantasy

**A/N:** So my boyfriend and I are celebrating our 5th year together tonight and I'm supposed to be getting ready..and here I am, finishing edits for this update. Am I dedicated or what? lol Anyway, enjoy the chapter! No quote/lyrics yet because it was either post without one or delay a few hours. Feel free to lend some quotes/lyrics you find fit the chapter and I'll edit later. Thanks guys!

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><p><strong>Chapter 23 - Fatal Fantasy<strong>

"_I promise I won't let you down."_

The words Aang said to me when we agreed to be allies continue ringing in my head as I trudge through the forest, searching for Sokka. My eyes hurt from forcing back tears, my throat aching from strain. I'm overcome with the desire to throw up, but my stomach is too empty. It's one thing to watch someone die, but another entirely to watch someone you care about die; watch it unfold before your eyes so quickly that you can't do anything to stop it.

_You didn't let me down, Aang, _I think with deep sadness. _I let you down_.

The sun has lowered in the sky, and in a few hours it will be dusk. I need to find Sokka before its dark. I don't feel comfortable sleeping alone anymore, not even concealed high in the trees. The fact that it's been about an hour and I _still_ haven't found Sokka makes me wary. The only good thing, I continue to remind myself, is that a canon would have gone off if he was dead.

I pause under a tree with a wide trunk, giving myself a quick break. I've only got a handful of arrows left—six or seven at most—and the dagger Mai had thrown at me. If we are near the lake, at least I'll be near water, if I can even find it; although I have no idea what I can put it in, but that's not something to worry about just yet.

I dump out the contents of my satchel, looking for anything else I can use. Someone must have stocked it when I wasn't paying attention because I find my bedroll, a single spark rock, clean bandages, Zuko's crown—and Yue's necklace. I bend down to pick it, examining it between my fingers. I try to remember when the prince gave it back to me. I look to the woods, as though somehow the trees hold my answer. Their silence is expected, and yet I still feel disappointed. I still have his crown—I forgot I even had it, to be honest. But he must have slipped my necklace into the bag when I wasn't looking, because I can't remember him giving it back. An odd move on his part, but I slip the necklace over my head regardless; I feel immediate reassurance.

My stomach growls. I'm starving and I haven't seen any berries or nuts lately. I also haven't seen any animals to hunt. Can I even afford to waste arrows hunting for food with tributes to worry about?

Thinking of Smellerbee, I take Mai's knife and chip away a piece of bark from one of the trees. It's thick and chewy and tasting of earth in my mouth, but I force it down with a grimace. At least it'll give me energy, even if it tastes terrible. I eat as much as I can stomach, resting against a tree, my boots digging into the squishy ground at my feet.

"_Your clothing is black, but eventually you'll need to blend in. I'd suggest covering yourself in mud,"_ June had said.

"_Why mud?"_

"_Flushes out scent and gives you camouflage. You'll be able to stick leaves on you if necessary."_

"_Let's hope I never get that desperate."_

And yet here I am, more desperate than ever. I look down at my feet, at the dirty boots, thinking of June's advice. If I'm going to stand a chance against Ty Lee and the others, I need all the help I can get.

I bend down and scoop up a handful of mud and start to cover my satchel. Then I smear the mud over my clothing, my hands, my neck, my face. If I find Sokka, can take down Ty Lee and Mai, then maybe I can risk rinsing off at the lake. Until then, I'm going to look like a swamp monster and that's that. I finish my blending by sticking various leaves all over my satchel and clothing.

I'm on the move again. I wish it would rain, even just for a few minutes. I feel dirty, thirsty, and oddly lonely without it. I never realized how much I want and need water. I miss it like a wilting flower on a hot summer day.

Suddenly I hear Hama's voice. _"Water is all around us." _

She's right, of course. I decide to risk it and pull some moisture out of the plants around me. I'm weaker than before, and I have to concentrate harder, but I manage to do it. The plants shrivel up and die, turning a nasty shade of brownish green. I drink the water; allow it to quench my thirst before moving on. I really hate doing that, watch life drain out of something even as benign as a plant.

I move on. I only walk about ten minutes when I see it: a huge willow, larger than I have ever seen, the green leaves bent over like falling rain. Zuko's voice reverberates in my head:

"_I remember a tall willow, though, if it helps."_

And then I hear noises. Leaves crunching, followed by hushed voices. High, angry voices. Female. Not coming toward me, thankfully, but in the vicinity.

I start moving slowly, an arrow already fitted into the string of my bow, pausing frequently to make sure my presence remains unknown. If I'm near Azula's camp, I _cannot_ be heard or seen. Perhaps Suki's method of attack will work best. Quick, lethal, and stealthy. Three Fire tributes, three arrows to the chest. _Don't make it difficult_, I tell myself.

When I get as close to the voices as I dare possible, I pick a tall tree fit with thick, leafy branches and start climbing. My strength with a bow is range, and I don't have range from the ground. I move slower than usual, making sure to keep quiet. About twenty feet up, the worst happens. My quiver catches on a branch—the strap snaps completely and nearly yanks me backwards, knocking me off balance. I struggle to keep my position and almost fall, but I manage to right myself. Only, I can't catch the quiver, and it starts to fall. Desperately I reach out with one arm, grappling furiously, but the quiver slides through my fingers and the arrows topple out. All I end up with is a single arrow that I manage to snag.

The arrows hit the branches on the way down—not at all quietly—and land in a pile of leaves, barely visible even to a trained eye. My quiver lands off to the side. I bite my tongue, both out of fear and fury. It's all I can do not to curse out loud. For a moment I simply down at it all, debating if I can risk getting down and back up here without being heard or spotted again.

And then I'm moving, going down the tree as quickly as I can. Just when I reach the bottom, I hear the sound of crunching leaves, some distance away, but most certainly coming closer. I want to scream, furious with myself. There's no time to gather all my arrows and stack them in my quiver, so instead I stash them under the leaves, burying them as much as I can. I take another for good measure and grab my quiver and scale the tree, climbing faster than I ever have in my life.

I'm about twenty feet up when the footsteps are close enough that I have to stop. I flatten myself against a heavy branch, praying my camouflage works, my heart pounding so loud I'm surprised no one can hear me. I don't dare peek over to see what's happening below—I barely breathe, afraid to make even the slightest of sounds.

The crunching walks past my tree and suddenly stops.

_Don't look up_, I think desperately. _Don't look up, don't look up_.

The minutes seem to drag. I tense for attack, waiting for it. Mentally I start coming up with a plan: _I'm higher, so I can jump down and use my body force to my advantage. I have two arrows, but I know where the rest are. I have a knife_. And then,

"Well, what was it?" a voice calls out, sounding much further away.

"Nothing," another voice answers, from below. "There is no one here. Probably just an animal."

I don't dare breathe out. It's Ty Lee; I can tell by the pitch of her voice. But where's Sokka? What happened to him? _No canon_, I remind myself. _He's still alive_. I don't relax until the footsteps fade away, and when they finally do, I rise a little from my position and have a look around. I was so preoccupied with what was going on _below_ me I didn't notice everything around and above me.

I'm high enough from the ground that I can actually see the flags. I'm close to the Base, probably around a half mile. My gold Nine waves in the breeze, next to a red Nine that makes me feel calmer and calmer the more I stare at it. Of course Sokka is alive. I shouldn't doubt him so quickly. There are only nine flags left. Nine tributes. But as I stare at the flags, something feels off, like I'm missing something.

Or someone. And then I catch it.

There is no red Eight.

What happened to Matsu? When did I miss this? Toph's flag is still in the air and the last time I saw her, she was with Matsu when we were trapped—

_Zuko_. The idea hits me so suddenly I almost gasp. He never told me how he got his swords back. Did he kill Matsu? Or is it merely coincidental? I almost laugh; I'm starting to think there is no such thing as a coincidence in these Games anymore. What happened while I was sleeping off the effects of the venom? Did Toph kill Matsu and give Zuko back his swords? Unlikely, since there's no reason for her to do such a thing. I guess it doesn't really matter; that's one less tribute I have to worry about. I wonder, though, if Toph is still planning on escaping to Province 13 through the underground tunnels.

I almost laugh again. What a suicidal idea but the more I think about it, the more I'm torn with some twisted feeling I almost want to write off as jealousy, but that can't be right. The reason I can't go with Toph—besides the fact that Province 13 _doesn't exist_—is that I can't leave behind my dad and Sokka. Why would I be jealous of that? And yet…Is it a blessing I can't go because I can't leave behind love ones? Or is it a curse in disguise?

I concentrate on the voices and lower myself until I'm flat on my stomach. I have to inch forward a little, and pull back a branch that hangs in front of my face. From this angle, I'm just able to catch a glimpse of a camp some distance away. Azula's camp, no doubt.

Sitting on a relatively open and flat area is a huge crimson tent, easily able to fit fifteen people inside. Even from this distance I can see this isn't an ordinary, cheap tent. It's regal, trimmed in gold, with an enormous gold emblem on the hanging flap that I think is the Fire Nation national symbol, the flame. Empty crates are stacked around the tent, each embellished with the same symbol. I can't be sure, but it looks like weaponry crates, the kind I've seen loaded off docks by the Guards back at Province 9.

_Well_, I think reasonably, _that explains Mai's endless supply of knives and daggers_.

I shift my gaze from the crates and then I see them: Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai, standing off side the tent. Their posture makes it seem as though they're on the verge of an argument or discussing something serious. I have to strain my ears to hear them.

"I'm sorry. "Azula holds up a hand, silencing whoever was speaking. "It seems I am confused. Could you please explain something to me, Mai?"

Even though the question is obviously addressed to Mai, Ty Lee takes a hesitant step toward the tent. Standing across from the princess and Ty Lee, Mai looks more alone than the measly few feet that separate them.

"Of course," says Mai. Her voice is level, but I can see the unease in her posture.

"Did you or did you not score an eight during the training session?" says Azula. Her voice is precise and sharp, the voice of someone that people listen to.

"I did, Princess."

"And did you not perform, purposely, under your true capabilities?"

"I did, Princess."

Azula places her arms behind her back, tipping her chin down with pursed lips, an unsatisfied look on her face. She's wearing dark armor, black as night, and her hair is pulled back, two strands dangling in front of deep gold eyes. She stands like Zuko: tall, proud and regal. "Then how," she says, pacing in front of Mai, "have you failed to miss so many targets I have assigned to you?"

Silence.

Azula taps a booted foot. "Ty Lee, please enlighten Mai on the previous task I bestowed upon the pair of you."

"You said you wanted me to take away your brother's bending and lure one of the tributes from Nine into the woods so they get lost, forcing their group to split," says Ty Lee, in a small, timid voice. I've never seen her look so afraid. "And Mai…you wanted her to kill the other one from Nine and injure your brother."

Azula looks at Mai pointedly. "Did you do either of your tasks, Mai?"

"There were so many of them."

"So many of them," Azula echoes flatly. The silence that follows is frightening and heavy.

"I tr—"

The princess moves so fast it's a blur of movement. Blue fire swarms over Mai's head, silencing her midsentence. Ty Lee quivers.

"_Do not say you_ _tried!_" Azula's voice rings through the arena, icy and hard and frightening. "You either succeed or you fail. There is no such thing as _trying_."

Mai bows her head, black hair spilling past her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Princess."

"I am starting to doubt your abilities." It's startling how quickly the princess can go from angry to calm. She lifts a hand, examining her sharp, narrow nails. "Are you incapable of such tasks?"

"No, Princess."

"Well then, I suppose you ought to prove it, otherwise my use for you ends here."

Mai looks up, confused. "Sorry?"

"You say you are not a failure." The princess grabs Ty Lee by the arm and steers her toward one of the trees that surrounds their camp; Ty Lee let's herself be dragged without a word, almost looking like an ashamed pet who has displeased their owner.

Azula turns and vanishes inside the tent, returning a moment later with a ripe green apple. She places it on a very stiff Ty Lee's head and turns to Mai. "If you are not a failure and your aim is as good as you say it is, then you can hit the apple cleanly without harming Ty Lee."

Mai stares at Ty Lee and goes very white. "Is this really necessary, Princess?"

"Is your life necessary?" Azula rallies back. "Not unless I say it is."

My grip around the arrows tightens. Can I hit any of them from here? Trees and branches obscure my line of fire; the shot will be tricky. Missing will give away my location and I can't have a Firebending prodigy like Azula find me trapped in a tree with only one arrow left and a knife. No, I decide. I can't risk it from this distance. Longshot could do it, but he's not here anymore.

"You look indecisive." Azula's voice is almost a purr. "Do you know what happens to the fate of those who are indecisive?"

Mai swallows, but says nothing.

"Do I detect fear, Mai?" Azula says, sounding both amused and disappointed all at once. "Fear you will fail, or fear of what will happen _if_ you fail?"

Mai looks at the princess, face blank. "I'm not afraid of either."

Azula's eyes flash, like the reaction of water hitting fire in a spark of fury, but the look is gone in an instant. Her eyes then flicker between Mai and Ty Lee. "Then do it," she demands.

Mai pulls out a knife and looks at it, carefully. I have to lean far to the left to see Ty Lee; she stands tall and strong but her eyes give her away: She's nervous and scared and I don't blame her one bit. Mai looks up—she's standing about twenty feet from Ty Lee—and gives Ty Lee a look that almost reads as an apology. Then without warning, she launches the knife.

Ty Lee lets out a shriek as the knife pierces the apple, pinning it to the tree; I jump in reaction, but manage to stay silent. For some reason, relief swells inside me, and instantly I feel like I can breathe again.

"Good," says Azula, turning on her heels to face Mai. "Very good. That makes me feel a little better, as it should you."

Mai exhales slowly, also looking relieved, and then—

"But you should have feared me more." Azula moves with blinding speed. White-blue light crackles around her, following from her fingers like an electric whip. Mai looks at her, confused, and then realization hits, but it's too late. Azula lunges forward, two fingers pointing out, and the lighting surges from her fingers to Mai's chest; Mai flies through the air and slams at the base of a tree.

The canon that goes off conceals my scream.

"Why did you do that?" Ty Lee asks, horrified, rushing over to Mai. Mai's body is crumpled and still, covered under black robes. "She did it! She did what you asked!"

"Wrong." Azula strides over to Ty Lee, towering over her. There is no remorse on her face, no emotion at all. "My father does not accept failure and neither do I. Province 2 has failed me countless times. I wanted to give Mai a chance to succeed at least once before she dies."

Ty Lee just stares at her and Azula sighs, somehow looking terribly inconvenienced.

"It seems if I want anything done around here I must do it myself," she finally says. "My brother is a traitor, as hopefully the rest of the world can see by now. The reason we remain the last two Fire tributes, Ty Lee, is because we are the only ones _worthy_ of it. None of the others are, including my _dearest_ big brother." Her expression changes into something more thoughtful, yet equally as upsetting. "Although, I admit I did have higher hopes for Mai and Chan." She glances at Ty Lee. "I hope you will not leave me as disappointed."

Ty Lee looks back down at Mai, her face crumpling in emotions, looking more human that I've ever seen. But when she looks back at Azula, it's carefully blank.

"I will not fail you, Princess," she says, and then she moves toward the princess and bows at her feet, nose touching the ground.

Azula smiles down at Ty Lee, just as frightening as it is beautiful. "I know you won't."

Suddenly I think of Aang. This is how he died, only then I hadn't seen where the lighting came from. It was Azula, and she can _bend_ lightning. This must be what she showed the Elites and how she received a perfect score. I have never heard of anyone bending anything other than the four elements; how is lightning even possible? Can all benders do it, or just Firebenders? What about Zuko? Has he been waiting to do this to me, to Sokka, before he goes after Azula?

For a brief second, I consider what will happen if I stay up here, hidden in this tree, until the end of the Games. Will the Elites manipulate the arena and force me out? Will a mentor send a note into the arena, like Pakku did for me, and tell the other tributes where I am?

_I don't want to play anymore_, I think miserably. But then I think of my dad, watching back at home. I think of June and Pakku and Hama. I think of all of Province 9, and I think of my brother, who is counting on me. I can't quit on any of them. Not now—not ever.

I don't know how to beat Azula; all I know is that Ty Lee's task was to lose my brother in the woods. He's out there alone and lost while the princess and Ty Lee plan their next move. I have to get out of here and find him, but it's too risky to make any sudden movements while they're still hanging around. I have to wait it out. It'll be dark in a few hours; I'll sneak away then. I take out my knife and cut off another piece of bark. It still tastes just as disgusting, but I suppose it's better than nothing. At the end of the day, Mai's flag is the only one lowered. I almost forget flags aren't lowered until dusk, and it relieves me to know for a fact that Sokka is alive. I roll on my back and stare up at the red-gold sky, munching on bark, and somehow feeling lonelier than I ever have in the Games so far.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! Poor Mai. :( This chapter was a bit tough because Azula's a tough character to write. Hope I wrote her okay. The reason she keeps Ty Lee instead of Mai is because Ty Lee has "proven herself" more in Azula's eyes, based off things we have seen in the story and things that have happened we haven't seen. ;)

**Review Responses:**

**Jane Keybored: "Now how did Zuko get his swords back? and Why is he covered in blood? Did he protect the stoned tributes while they were out?"** - This will be revealed in later chapters. For now you can let your imagination go wild, haha. Also, the reason Matsu is shown as alive last chapter is because Katara believed he WAS alive. I'm keeping everyone on the same page as Katara. ;)

**"It is reminiscent of the canon Mai/Zuko relationship, but I'm pretty positive that Mai and Zuko haven't really met up before, since they're from different providences."** - Yeah, Mai and Zuko have never met before. I wanted there to be a little reminiscent, but it's really nothing more than that. Zuko wanted Mai alive because of strategic reasons, nothing personal. :D

**BG-13: "Ok...if you kill Toph...this story is dead to me...no matter how well its written!"** - Lol I've found it really interesting how everyone seems to care mostly about Toph not dying. Don't get me wrong, I love her to pieces, but I find it oddly cute.

**"Please tell me there is more of Toph being Epic!"** - I have so much to say about her but I can't because I refuse to spoil everyone! lol I will say this though. I want to explain Toph's behavior a little. Of course Toph is a badass and she could probably take out just about everyone in the Games-perhaps not Azula or Zuko-but for Toph to show off her skills and be a badass would mean she's playing the game. That she's giving in to the Capital. And Toph is just not ike that. She flat out refuses to play the Capital's little game, and opts for a way out. So while it would be fun to write her being a badass, I don't think it'd be in character, at least not the character I have for her in this story. Toph is waiting patiently, just as her mentor advised. Think about who her mentor might be and it might make more sense...:D

**happilyinsane13: "The conflict in Zuko's head is playing out very well, and since I can tell this from Katara's point of view, that's even better!"** - Thank you! That's such a great compliment. It's hard to portray conflicting character correctly, especially when they're seen from another point of view. Glad it's working so far. :P

**"On a slightly different note, you know your story that you also originally posted on HPFF? Is the story still there? Or only on FFnet now?"** - Changing Fate? It's only on here now. :D I'll be posting Forces of Destiny, the sequel, when I finish CF. I'm sort of re-writing every chapter, not changing anything big, but making it a cleaner and better written story.

**DestinyCrusader: "But I guess... well, when I read it, the emotional feeling I got didn't seem strong enough. Idk, maybe my mind just went numb when it happened... just a thought, I guess."** - Talking about Aang's death. This was actually my intention, to be honest. A quick death that leaves you thinking "did that just happen?" Aang's death is reminiscent of how he "dies" in season 2, and it's how I felt when I watched it because it seemed so fast that I almost couldn't believe it happened. But it's those deaths that linger, and Katara constantly thinks about it afterwards. It doesn't affect as much when it happens as it will in the future, when she looks back. That quick death was a shock factor, but once that shock fades, then she has to face it and that's when it hurts most. There is a drawn out death though, coming up soon. :(

**SallyAcorn: "I know, I know, and your probably not ven reading this cause of the overwhelming popularity of this story!"** - I don't know if I've mentioned this, but I want everyone to know I read EVERY review. Every single one. I check reviews at least 10 times a day. I love posting a new chapter and seeing what you guys think about it. Now, I don't respond to every review, simply because I try to respond to questions or comments that I want to explain. But I really do appreciate every review I receive; they mean a lot to me!

**"In the end, will it be more of the "KATNISS AND PEETA, ON TOP OF THE HORN, ALONE W/ NO HOPE" or will you put on a different approach"** - Different. :D No horn and no muts! lol (I felt so bad for Cato in that scene..)

**Gryffygirl: "Why are you keeping them as a group for so long? In THG, Katniss was alone for most of the time, except for Rue. So why keep her with so many for so long?"** - Well, firstly because Katara isn't Katniss. :P She functions differently, especially in the "working alone" versus "working with a group" sense. Now Zuko prefers working alone, like Katniss, and so does Suki. But Katara is a bit different. She also has her brother, so she really isn't alone in the sense that Katniss was. And if Sokka thinks they should be in a group, Katara trusts his decision. She also knows staying in a group is the only way Azula and her sidekicks could go down. Cato isn't as powerful as Azula, and he also didn't have allies as strong as Ty Lee and Mai. While Katara would have preferred to be just with her brother, she's smart enough to know her chances are much stronger in a group. She's not as stubborn and prideful as Katniss in that sense. :P

**HunterX321: "Also, I would like to ask if it would be possible for an extra to be about Toph when she was reaped."** - This is a good idea for a bonus scene! I'll keep it in mind. :D

**me38242: "I was also surprised/disappointed that Zuko didn't kill jet because I honestly feel like he had the skill set to do so."** - Firstly, I enjoyed all your theories! You hit close on some points. :D Now to your comment: Yes, Zuko could have probably killed Jet based on skill alone. But he knows he needs Jet, because Jet is a good fighter. It's really the same reason he didn't want to kill Mai: he needs them for the bigger picture. He had a plan in his head and was trying to keep it from backfiring. He needs Jet to fight Azula and he needs Mai to find Azula. :P But we all know how Zuko's plans work out..haha.

**"The fact that Zuko now shows hesitation reveals that he, in fact, is not truly a naturally "killer."** - Yes, I do not believe Zuko is a natural killer. However, I would say he can be an _instinctual_ killer at times. Instinct was what made him kill Chan and natural is what made Azula kill Mai. Instinct drives a lot of Zuko's actions, actually. :D

**"That line "You have no idea what it feels like to love someone so much you would risk your own life for them"... Why do I get the feeling that Zuko did EXACTLY that while Katara was unconscious with the rest of them?"** - Well, I will say these words did trigger something in Zuko, but it has nothing to do with Katara. :P There..I'll let you mule _that_ over, haha.

**Updated list of ALIVE tributes:**

**Province 1 - Azula and Zuko**

**Province 5 - Ty Lee **

**Province 6 - Jet**

**Province 8 - Toph **

**Province 9 - Katara and Sokka**

**Province 12 - Suki**


	26. Let the Flames Begin

**A/N:** This chapter was really long so I had to cut it in half, which is why this won't seem too long. But that means the update will be faster. :D

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><p>This is how we'll dance when they try to take us down. This is how we'll sing it. This is how we'll stand when they burn our houses down.<p>

This is what will be oh glory. Reaching as I sink down into light. - _Let the Flames Begin_, Paramore

**Chapter 24 - Let the Flames Begin**

I must have drifted off to sleep because I wake to pitch black skies, the only light the soft glow from the moon. I have no idea what time it is, but Azula and Ty Lee must be asleep because it's utterly silent apart from the familiar noises of night dwelling creatures.

_Do you really think they're both sleeping?_ a voice says to me, oddly sounding like my brother's. No. Of course not. One will be keeping watch while the other sleeps. Well, there goes my wild, terribly thought out plan of shooting them in their sleep. I wouldn't make it past the entrance of the tent, most likely. I've spent plenty of time sneaking around Province 9 but I'm not nearly as stealthy and quiet as Suki or Zuko.

Suddenly and reluctantly guilt gnaws at me. Ever since I went after Sokka, I've tried not thinking about my last encounter with Zuko. I try replaying what happened in my head but it's too hazy. All I know is thinking about him for too long stirs a handful of emotions inside me. And I have no time or desire to figure them out. Sokka is my priority right now, and I force any thoughts that don't revolve around him out of my head.

I'm careful not to lose my footing as I scale down the tree, pausing every few branches to listen for any sign of detection. When I reach the bottom, I sift through the leaves to retrieve my arrows. The quiver's strap is still broken, but I may be able to fix it. Or, at least, fix it enough so it's still useable. But I don't want to fix it here, so close to Azula and Ty Lee. I'll need to put some distance between us to be safe.

Quietly, I stack my remaining arrows in the quiver and start moving away from their camp. Dark shadows loom around every corner, playing tricks with my eyes. It's startling how an imagination can somehow draw up what would normally be considered irrational images in the dark. Or how the mind registers the natural sound of a scurrying animal to an advancing tribute, ready to pounce and attack the first chance they get. I've never been so unnerved by the dark before. The moon has always brought me comfort, solace in the darkest of nights. But even now, as I move silently through the arena with the moon burning brightly above me, I feel nothing. No comfort, no reassurance. Maybe it's not the fact that it's dark that's so discomforting. Maybe it's because I have no one to walk with me through it.

I don't stop walking until dawn, and that's when I try to fix my quiver. Since the strap has snapped, I have to tie the torn end around one of the loops on the quiver. It's not a sturdy fixing, and will most likely snap again under tense situations, but it'll have to work for now because my satchel isn't big enough to hold all the arrows. Once I finish, I follow the sweet melody of bright red birds. I have to climb high in a tree but I find a nest with three eggs.

"Sorry birdies," I say, and place the eggs carefully in my satchel before moving back to the ground. I use the spark rock to start a fire, and cook the eggs on a smooth stone. I put out the fire and then I'm back on my feet, wading through the forest.

"You could really use a bath," a voice says, cutting through the silence. "I could smell you across the arena."

I whirl around, stringing an arrow in a blur of movement. My gaze lands on a pair of milky green eyes in the trees, the tip of the arrow aimed straight for her chest. She's barefoot, dirty and camouflaged perfectly with the natural greenery around her. Tiny pieces of bark stick out in all directions of her raven black hair.

"So could you," I say. "You shouldn't sneak up on people, you know. Could be the last thing you ever do."

Her lips twitch into a smile. "You're different from the last time I saw you."

"Thought you were blind," I say, before I can stop myself.

"Just because I'm blind doesn't mean that I can't _see_," Toph explains. "You see the world with your eyes—with your colors and pictures. I see in what you call the dark—I see everything you _don't_."

I lower the bow slightly and stare at her. She stares back at me, like she really does see me. "What do you want?" I bark, preparing to fire an arrow should she jump at me. I made the mistake of underestimating her once and I won't be doing that again.

Toph drops to the ground, but makes no move to come any closer to me. "I was wondering if you've thought about my proposition," she says. "The tunnels are more or less complete."

Immediately my gaze sweeps the trees, as though I'll be able to see the Elites holding the Watchers. Or maybe I'm searching for a beam of lightning, a ray of fire, to kill us where we stand.

"Be quiet," I hiss. "Do you want to get us killed? You can't say things like that."

"Relax, Sugar Queen," says Toph, waving me off. She picks at something in her teeth and then spits on the ground. "No one is recording this and none of the Elites are even within hearing distance."

"Why?" I can't help but ask, even though I have no idea how she could possibly know this.

A pause. "They've found something more interesting to record than you walking alone through the arena."

Panic surges in me. "Like what?" I demand. "How do you know this?"

"Because I can feel it," she says. "I feel the vibrations in the earth; that's how I can Earthbend and see."

I'm already on the move, barely listening to her. When I hear vibrations and Earthbending and seeing, it immediately reminds me of the Badgermoles. How they are blind but can still Earthbend. Interesting, but irrelevant at the moment.

"If Sokka's in danger I have to find him." I brush Toph in the shoulder as I pass, hardly noticing. Even though I don't say it, Sokka isn't the only one I'm concerned about. "Tell me where they are."

"I don't know which one is him," she says, sounding frustrated, and suddenly the grounds shakes and I'm blocked by an enormous wall of rock and dirt; I whirl around to face Toph, eyes wide.

"What are you doing?" I demand angrily.

"Are you even _listening_ to me?" Her voice is bossy and impatient. She points at me, shaking her hand. "I'm giving you a way out while the Elites are too busy trying to record the fighting that they won't even notice us!"

"I don't care!" I say, breathlessly. "I don't care if you've found a way out. If you want to go then go, but I'm not leaving my brother behind like you did Matsu!"

Toph's eyes flash. "I didn't leave him behind! That prince killed him while he was hunting for our food."

I should probably be surprised but I'm not. And I don't even care.

"Part of the game, isn't it?" I say, throwing back her earlier words. "Why do you even want me to go with you?"

"Because you and I are alike," she says. "Everyone underestimates people like you and me. And they shouldn't."

"You're willing to leave everything you know behind," I say, "and I'm not. How does that make us alike?"

She takes a step toward me and crosses her arms. "You might not be willing to but that doesn't mean you won't do it."

"I won't," I insist through gritted teeth.

"Well guess what? There are a lot of things you won't do, and winning these Games is one of them," she says. "If you go after your brother, one of you will die, if not both of you. Do you understand that? Your only chance is to _run_. You _won't live_ if you don't."

"I will never turn my back on the people who need me," I say, low and quiet. "If you start running now, they'll never let you stop, Toph. That's no way to live."

"And playing the Capital's game is?" Her voice rises in anger. "I'd rather die trying to escape than live by their rules."

I almost smile at her, because her words sound like something I would say if I didn't know anything about the world we live in. It even sounds like something Sokka would say. But the both of us have seen a glimpse of the Capital's wrath. We know what they can and will do. Even if, by some miracle, I did escape the Games, then what? I might as well ask the Capital to kill my dad and attack Province 9, because surely that's what they will do. They will destroy everything that means anything to me. And even if it means I get to live past these Games, I could never bring that kind of destruction on anyone.

"I just can't afford to think like that," I say to Toph, and turn my back on her, wishing I can say more. I wish I can explain to her why I can't go, but I don't know if she will even understand. Does she realize what running away will do to her family? Does she even _have_ a family? Does she realize that I can't be that selfish?

Toph is silent, and then suddenly the wall crumbles to the ground, no longer blocking my path. _Thank you_, I want to say, but instead I glance over my shoulder without looking over it. "I hope you escape, and I hope no one suffers because of it. Maybe we'll even see each other again someday."

It's a lie, and we both know it.

"Run about a mile east of here," she says. "That's where you want to go." I start to take off and she adds, almost a little reluctantly, "The prince needs to win. His life is worth more than yours, mine or your brothers. He could change everything—remember that."

I pause, slightly bewildered, but manage a detached sort of nod. Zuko could change everything. What does she mean by that? Of course his life is worth more than mine—he's the prince of the Fire Nation. But I still don't see how that means he could change everything, or anything, for the matter.

I force myself to shake off all thoughts around Zuko—because I can't stand feeling guilty, and that's all I feel when I think of him. I'm on the run again, an arrow already strung and ready to be fired. If things are as bad as Toph says, then I can't let my guard down even for a second. I leap over roots and sprint past the trees, careful not to trip. I run about a half mile before I start to tire, but I push past, ignoring the cramp in my side. I don't know the last time I've run this fast but I can't stop now.

It starts to thunder, and then heavy raindrops fall from the sky. I pause only a second to let it splash on my face, washing off all the dirt and mud I had caked on earlier. I take advantage of the rain to bend some of into my mouth for a quick drink. I wish I still had that pouch, because my quiver won't work—there are openings in the bottom that will stop the water from staying inside. The rain is coming down hard now, making it harder for me to see. I can bend some of it away as I run, but then I'd have to put my bow away, which I can't do. If I run into a tribute, I'll shoot my first arrow and then bend.

That's when I hear it, over the pounding rain and rumbling thunder. A scream rippling in agony, chilling me to the bone. A very horribly familiar scream. It's even more terrible because I've never expected my brother to make that kind of sound.

Now I fling my bow behind me and keep one hand curled around the arrow, using my spare hand to bend away the water so I can see better. Nothing can slow me down now—not the storm or the rain or the thunder. I run toward the scream blindly, not caring what's waiting for me when I find Sokka, not caring if it's a trap or who is hidden in the trees, poised for attack. Rational logic has left me. I push past the trees, shouting his name. I'm running so fast all I see is a haze of washed down colors.

I break through a clearing, out of breath and winded, and brush my wet hair from my face. The storm has tainted the colors of the arena to murky shades of green and brown. I raise a hand to bend away the water from my line of vision, and that's when I see him. Curled on the ground, across the clearing, his back pressed against the wide base of a tree.

My heart stops, and suddenly I can't move. As though sensing my presence, he looks up. Even through the blurry haze of the pounding rain, I can still make out his face: horror, pain, anguish, flashing across his features, leaving me terrified. But his face only holds my attention for so long. A sword has punctured through his stomach, spilling his blood and staining the ground crimson. I know that sword…

Rage fills me from the inside out, rippling in waves of fury off my skin until it consumes me entirely and I hardly remember anything before this moment and this anger.

Sokka's eyes go wide and his expression twists into agony. "No..."

I hear something from behind but before I can react, something sharp digs into the small of my back.

"I wouldn't make any sudden movements if I were you," a smooth voice says. "Unless you want to end up like your brother over there."

I close my eyes and have to bite my tongue to keep quiet. I can taste the salt and rusty taste of blood in my mouth, but I swallow it down, instead of spitting and showing any kind of weakness. My arms, stiff at my sides, shake with tension and fury.

"Drop the arrow," the voice instructs gently. When I don't so much as move, the tip of a sword digs deeper and I'm forced to drop it. "Good girl. I didn't want it to come down to this, you know. I didn't want to have to kill you or your brother. But you just had to be so stupid, Katara."

My lips twitch, but I remain very still, not daring to turn around yet. With the sword pressed against my back, he'll drive it right through me before I can summon up any of the rain to my aid. My arms take longer movement to bend than his do to thrust a sword forward. He knows it, too. _Wait for an opening_, my dad would say. _Wait_.

I look at Sokka across the clearing, and his silence is the only thing keeping me quiet. If he was in any condition to fight, he would be by my side. The fact that he isn't saying anything—not even trying to stand up or move—shows me just how injured he really is. I have to get to him as soon as possible. The look he gives me is loud and clear: _Don't do anything stupid_.

"I'm sorry you have to see your brother die," the voice from behind goes on. "That wasn't planned. We all know he was going to die one way or another, but I'm sure he'd rather you didn't see it. I would have finished him off if that wretched girl from Twelve didn't come along."

_Suki_, I think, bewildered. If she came between him and Sokka, there's no way he left _that_ fight unscathed. He'll be weakend, somewhere, if only I could have a look at him to find out.

"The Capital needs to be stopped," he says vehemently. "Starting with their heirs. And here we have a chance to end them. I thought you were like me, and could see that." The sword presses deeper into my back and even though I flinch, I force myself not to cry out, even though I can feel my skin breaking. "But then I saw the way you looked at that filthy prince and I just _knew_."

What he knew, I'll never know, because that's when Sokka gives a terrible, raspy cough and I know that's my opening. I freeze the water dripping down my arms to my fingertips, making ice daggers, and then whirl around and fling the daggers at Jet. He stumbles back and slashes out; the blade barely brushes my arm—Suki must have damaged his good arm, altering his aim.

Before he can gather his balance, I spring—there's no other word for it, really—faster than I've ever moved in my life, snatch the arrow from the ground, and slam into his body, knocking him to the ground; Jet's sword flies out of reach. Then with one fluent, quick motion, I slit his throat with the side of the sharpened arrow. I roll away into a crouch, ready to strike again. Jet, still on his back, clutches his bleeding throat with a hand. The color stains my vision and all I see is an angry, dark red.

He will probably die from blood loss but that's not good enough for me. I leap forward and pin him down, pressing my knees into his arms so he can't move.

"I wouldn't make any sudden movements if I were you," I throw back at him. I reach down and clutch his throat tightly to get his attention; blood oozes and seeps from between my fingers, sticky and warm and wet. Jet lets out a terrible sound and tries to throw me off, but I only tighten my grip harder, my nails digging into the bloody, cut flesh.

"_Who else is here?_" I demand, thinking of the fight Toph was talking about. "Where are the others? Where is Suki?"

Jet makes a kind of gurgling sound, but nothing coherent comes out. Still holding the arrow with my spare hand, I rake it across his face; he jerks under me.

"_I will rip you apart piece by piece until there is nothing left if I have to!_" My voice rings through the clearing. "Now answer me! Where are the others?"

I can almost hear my dad shouting at me to stop, but right now all I can think about is pain. I want Jet to suffer the way Sokka is suffering. I want him to hurt. To bleed. To feel everything my brother is feeling, because I'm so angry at myself for trusting him even as little as I did. He deserves to die for this. He deserves to die painfully.

"No…one…else," Jet chokes out. "Far…further…away."

"And Suki?" When he says nothing, I twist my fingers in his throat, tearing apart more skin. "_Answer me!_"

Jet cries out, and tears leak from his eyes. "Ran...away," he slurs.

"Katara...stop. Please, stop."

This time the voice is louder and I realize it's my brother, not my dad, and I'm not imagining it. My knuckles are blazing white from holding the arrow so tightly, and Jet's eyes flutter to mine, large and terrified, like he's staring at a monster. Dark red blood drips from his mouth, and I can feel the pulsing of his heart hammering against my blood coated hand. I lean down, until our faces are inches apart.

"I said I'd make it interesting when I killed you," I say, in a voice that's far too cold to belong to me, "but I think I like it better this way. Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

He tries to speak but I raise the arrow and ram it straight through his throat, letting him drown in his own blood.

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><p><strong>AN:** Little violent ending..lol. This was kind of inspired by Katara's irrational and dark anger we saw in The Southern Raiders, that sort of blind rage AKA Crazy Mode. Katara's real fighting comes out when she's emotionally involved, I think. As Zuko called out. :P Jet's pure hatred of the Capital actually has more of a backstory, but you won't find that out till the sequel. ;) It does kind of alter his thinking, just like his hatred for the FN does in the actual series. I tried to show that here in a couple of occasions. :P

Review Responses:

**Brijearin: "mastering of their bending, can not happen for all characters. At least not while in the games. In the future, if the live through the games, it might happen, but right now I can see why they don't have it. Or should I say not all of them have it. Azula surely seems like she is at least close to it, if she has not already reached master status."** - Exactly. Yes, I'd say Azula is a master in this story and Zuko is close. It really depends on what province they're from. All Fire provinces are taught how to fight with their bending; all others aren't, so they rely on natural skill or any training they snuck around to learn.

**"She wasn't the strongest of the characters on the show, and honestly she did let her emotions cloud most of her actions for most of it. Why would that major character trait be different here?"** - I quite agree. Personally, I felt like she went from terrible at Waterbending to Master way too quickly in the show. That's why she's no Master here; because it didn't seem realistic to me, based on her raw talent and the fact that she has no prior training. Unlike the series, she relies on the fighting her dad taught her rather than Waterbending, which is still new to her. Hence why she went for the arrow to stab Jet with versus using more water. She's more familiar with weapons than water at this point. And yes, she definitely lets her emotions cloud her actions. I too thought that trait would carry over to this story from the show. :D

**"But I do want to ask, just what Zuko was likely feeling/thinking when the group had all been stung and everyone was falling asleep."** - I feel like Zuko would have a thousand conflicting emotions playing in his head, which is why it's so hard for me to pinpoint a single answer. What were you thinking? I'm curious. :D

**WinterD: "I am a little curious as to how the people watching this (like Hakoda, Hama, and definitely Pakku) have been reacting to Katara's little 'alliance' with Zuko."** - I think everyone reacts differently. Hakoda would not care that Zuko is the Capital's prince and her ally; he only wants her to live, no matter what she has to do, who she has to ally with, to get to come home. Same with Sokka. If Katara being an ally with Zuko means Zuko saves her life-which he has-than Hakoda is all for it. Hama believes enough in Katara to know she's a smart girl, and I'd think would be able to see the redeeming qualities in Zuko. Pakku is probably slamming his head on a table somewhere, lol. Because he knows the danger of caring for people in the games. Backstory to come on that. :P

**Random Reader: "I wasn't expecting her to have a sanity slip in this one, but it could make sense."** - I don't think I'd call it insanity quite..but more like a really twisted idea of perfection. She's very much a 'no excauses, only results' type of person. She's also a very cold person who has grown up without feeling loved. She doesn't think of other people as human beings exactly, more like pawns at her disposal. She has no emotional connection to anyone. Killing Mai was like getting rid of a clock that no longer works.

**"I'm a little confused as to why Mai was nervous about the apple."** - Hitting a target is easy for Mai, of course, but she was nervous because it was on someone's head and ultimately this life was put in her hands. Mai can control her throw, but she can't control what Ty Lee will do. If Ty Lee flinches or moves, the knife could hit her. Mai doesn't like that kind of pressure.

**"Azula's actions were definitely fear-inducing, but not very honorable. Since the whole thing is being broadcast, I can't see a way that will reflect positively for her public relations. A quick "you failed me- you're dead" would have, in my opinion, been better than leading Mai to believe she had a way of saving their alliance."** - This is, I believe, one of the biggest differences in Zuko and Azula. Zuko strives to be seen as honorable to the world, while Azula strives to be feared. Ozai controls the world because of that fear; everyone is too afraid to stand up to the Capital. Azula knows it, and strives to be the same. By leading Mai to believe she could save their alliance and then kill her anyway only shows the public how failure is not accepted by the princess; just like it's not accepted by Ozai, as Azula even says to Mai.

In a world where people did not live in fear, Zuko would easily be the favorite; however, the world can't go against their own fear. There will be some who are inspired by Zuko, those who do not let their fear control them. But others and most will side with Azula, disgusted that the prince wouldn't ally with fire province tributes and thus see him as a traitor for fighting against them. In the end, everyone reacts differently, but it results in the same thing: no one does anytthing about it.

**ShoeNinja: "which leads me to wonder why she ever even bothered with allies in the first place."** - I'd hardly call them allies, more like pawns at her disposal. She never _needed_ them; she used them. You'll find out why in later chapters. ;)

**BlueRoses12121: "And how'd your date go? Was it sweet and romantic :)"** - Lol when you've been together 5 years..it's hardly sweet and romantic. Just kidding, lmao. But really, it was nice, thank you! We're one of those traditional couples so we go to the same place for dinner every year on our anniversary and then we see a movie. We saw Beauty and the Beast in 3D! Such a classic. Makes me want to write a Zutara take on Beauty and the Beast...:D

**Gryffygirl: " Are they going to do family interviews because that's what they did in THG?"** - As of now, I'm not planning on it. And I love Harry Potter, by the way! Haven't seen the musical though. :P Heard it was funny! On a random note, I hope you liked Jet's death, haha. Things are starting to get gory now.

**BG-13: "Will Katara bloodbend anytime soon?"** - Well, that would depend on if a full moon is coming up or not. Which I cannot say. :D

**"Will Zuko protect her from lightning like he did in the series finale?"** - Cannot answer this either! lol Maybe, maybe not. You'll have to wait and see.

**DestinyCrusader: "And Azula is that horrible, and it must have been hard to get into such a cruel mind"** - What's even harder is trying to analyze and understand her because she's so twisted in her thinking and trying to EXPLAIN it without sounding crazy myself, lmao. And even some of her thinking makes sense for her character, considering how she's been brought up. She's definitely a tough character, though.

**"I've been re-reading the Hunger Games, and at some points in your story I do feel a more emotional impact. Although maybe that's just because its ATLA. But no, you're really good at that part of the story."** - Aw, well thank you! I think it's mostly because we know and love the ATLA characters. And I've really tried to make them part of the story, rather than just other tributes. Katara gets to know Zuko, Aang, Toph, Jet, Smellerbee, Suki, etc. Katniss has no connection to anyone in the games except Rue and Peeta, so we don't really care as much about the other characters. (Katniss was really frustrating for me, actually, but that's another story)

**HunterX321: "This story is really shaping up to be good; however, I beg you not to let the sequel be as disappointing as Mockingjay."** - Well, I certainly hope it won't be! lol I haven't read all of MJ on purpose because I've heard how angry people have gotten over it. And I know the ending...which makes me mad. So I'm kind of basing the sequel a little off MJ, the idea at least, but also season 3 from the actual show will come into play.


	27. Safe and Sound

**A/N:** Alright, here it is. This is a pretty short chapter because it's basically the "ending" of the previous chapter. But at least you didn't have to wait long! I've dreaded posting this..

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><p>"Just close your eyes. The sun is going down.<p>

You'll be alright. No one can hurt you now.

Come morning light. You and I'll be safe and sound." - _Safe & Sound_, Taylor Swift

**Chapter 25 - Safe and Sound**

Without a backward glance at Jet, I rush over to Sokka's side. One look at the wound douses the fire of fury I'm feeling, like throwing water on a raging fire. Blood trickles down from the corner of his mouth. His hands are pressed against bloody, ripped fabric, where the blade meets his stomach, like he's trying to plug up a drain of blood. Even with the rain, he's bleeding so badly it isn't washing away.

I blink, momentarily frozen, and then snap out of it.

"It's okay," I say, digging through my satchel. My hands—covered in blood and mud—are shaking. "I can heal you. I've got bandages in here somewhere, I think."

"Katara."

"It's not that bad," I go on. "And Hama said I only need to _really_ want to heal for it to work. I know I can do it now."

"Katara, stop."

"Just sit still," I snap at him. "And—where are the damn bandages!"

"_Stop_." Sokka reaches up and grabs my wrist, squeezing with more strength than I thought possible for him in this state. I look down at him, eyes wide. "You can't heal me."

"Of course I can. Toph," I say suddenly, whipping my head around. "She can get you out of here. She bu—"

"_No_," Sokka says harshly, and then coughs up blood. It stains his lips red. "She _can't_. We both know that."

"I'll heal you, first."

"I won't let you do it." Sokka coughs again; I wipe away the blood from his mouth. "Don't waste your water on me."

"We're in the middle of a storm. Water is all around us." Frustration colors my voice. I pull some of the rain to prove my point, letting the liquid swirl in my palm. "And it'll be fine. We'll be fine. Now shut up and let me heal you."

I close my eyes, trying to concentrate, and press my water-filled hand to Sokka's chest. Nothing happens. Just like with Zuko, the water remains the same clear shade. No bluish glow. Nothing. I try again, and again, but the harder I try the harder it is to concentrate because I start to feel panicky and irritated.

"Just…I need more time," I say desperately. "I can do this. I know I can."

Sokka shakes his head and grimaces. A canon goes off in the distance. _Jet_, I think offhandedly, but don't bother throwing him a glance. When Sokka takes a breath, it's a shuddering gesture, and all I can do is stare at him. The rain is starting to lighten up but I still bend it away from his face. When I try to move the water back to his stomach, he catches my hand.

"You're going to be fine," he says. "You're going to win."

"NO!" My voice takes on an unfamiliar edge of hysteria. "No. Don't say things like that." I fiddle with my shirt and pull out Yue's necklace. "I—I've got this. Remember?" My hands are shaking so badly I can't even open it. Sokka's hand closes over mine and I look back at him, not from his touch but from the _coldness_ of his touch.

"This is not meant for me," he says gently, tapping the necklace lightly with a bloody finger.

"Don't you dare say that," I snarl. "Don't tell me when I can or can't use it."

Sokka smiles and it's so sad I want to cry. "There's nothing inside, Katara."

I stare down at the necklace and shake it. My heart drops, twisting in pain. It's completely empty. "But," I start, my voice small, "but there should be…?"

"Just _stop_." Sokka drags out a sigh, sounding very tired.

"_I will not stop!_" My voice cracks. Tears spill down my cheeks. "You can't do this to me, Sokka. I will be _so mad_ at you if you leave me. I need you. I can't do this alone."

He looks away before I can catch his expression, and when he looks back at me, his blue eyes are glassy. "You won't be alone. I'll always be with you, Sis. I love you."

"Sokka, stop this! Don't you say your goodbyes." I clutch the front of his robes, my fingers curling against the bloody fabric like a lifeline. He's literally lying in a pool of his own blood. "Please, please don't leave me."

His eyes search mine, and he says, very seriously, "There can only be one victor. I'm so sorry I left you when I should have stayed. I wanted to protect you until the end."

I can already see life draining out of him: his face paling, eyes glazing to an iced over blue. He's lost so much blood I can hardly believe he's still coherent and talking. He has to be fighting it more than he's letting on.

I look back at the wound, debating if I should pull out the sword. Without a boat load of bandages, I can't stop the blood. I can't stop it and I can't take out the sword because it will only drain him faster.

"Does it hurt?" I ask in a small, cracking voice, and wrap my arms around him so he's lying in my lap. "Are you in pain?"

"It doesn't hurt as much now as it did," he offers, and I don't know if he's lying or not.

I look away from his face, at the trees, the sky, anywhere but at him because it hurts too much. "This—it's all my fault," I say tonelessly. "I should have killed Jet long ago." I shake my head, over and over. "It's all my fault."

"I had to die one way or another. It's not your fault or Jet's. He just played the game better than me."

_It's all my fault_, I think again, because no matter what he says, no matter how much he tries to convince me otherwise, I know it's true. I try to think of all the little things that led up to this moment. What could I have done differently that would have altered this ending? So many things. And it doesn't even matter now because time was something we can never get back.

I look back at the wound, and press a hand against it. There's so much blood, warm and wet and sticking to my fingers. Slowly, I try to bend the blood back into him—it doesn't budge. I can feel the water in the blood, but it's too strong for me, like I'm fighting an incredibly powerful current. Where I feel nothing when I try to heal, this is like pushing against brute force.

The terrible truth settles in: I can't save him.

A wave of pure helplessness washes over me. It feels like I've suddenly, viciously been thrown off a cliff without warning. And I'm falling. Falling and falling and falling. Toph's words suddenly replay in my head: _If you go after your brother, one of you will die._

Why can't it be me?

_Breathe_, I tell myself, shaking. _Breathe_.

"The sun is going down," Sokka says, in a voice that sounds very far away and almost sleepily. He stiffens in my arms and I finally look at him. "You have to get out of here, Katara. The others—they'll find you if you don't start moving. The princess is distracted by the prince but if she finds you here—" he stops short with a cough. "You have to let me go now."

"I don't want"—the sound that escapes my throat is like nothing I've ever made before—to let you go."

He reaches up a shaky hand and I grasp it, letting it guide its way to my cheek. "I know. Don't be scared."

The fact that he's dying, bleeding away before my eyes, and telling _me_ not to be scared shatters me completely. I can't even speak, too blinded by the inevitable that consumes me entirely. It's just like Aang, watching this terrible tragedy unfold and know I can't do anything about it.

"Don't be scared," he says again. "Everything is going to be alright."

All I can manage is a profuse nod, blinded by tears and rain. I can't even make out his face.

"I won't leave you here alone," I whisper. "I love you so much. I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you."

"Win," he says, with surprisingly clarity. "Don't let them win."

"I won't," I choke out. "I won't. I promise."

"Tell Dad," he starts, and for once his voice starts to shake with emotion, "tell him—"

"I will." I pull him against me, choking down sobs.

His eyes flutter shut, his chest barely moving. "What will you say?"

I've never heard my brother sound so young. Even when we were kids, he always sounded so much older and wiser than me. But now I can hear the child-like innocence and curiosity and maybe even a little fear in his voice. He doesn't want to say it, but he's afraid. How can he not be? He's always been strong for me—now I have to be strong for him.

I take a deep, shaky breath and wipe my eyes. "I'll tell our story to all of Province 9," I say, in a shockingly even voice. "I'll tell them about training, about Pakku and Hama. I'll tell them about how much you love the food and how you never left my side. I'll tell them about the phoenix, about how you fought to the very end. I'll tell them everything they couldn't see."

I tighten my grip on his robes, as though somehow that will keep his heart beating a little longer. Eyes still pressing shut, Sokka smiles.

"And they'll tell their children someday," I go on. "And their children will tell their children. You will always be remembered, Sokka. Always."

My breath hitches in my throat and I have to shut my mouth because the back of my throat aches. I know if I keep talking I'll start sobbing again. Aang's death had been hard on me but this? This is my brother. This is my flesh and blood, my protector and best friend. Besides my dad, Sokka is the only other being in this world that knows me inside and out, and loves me for who I am. He's part of my soul—how am I supposed to lose part of my soul?

"There can only be one victor," Sokka says again, so quietly I almost miss it. "Run."

Those are his last words and a minute later a canon goes off. For a moment everything is silent and still, like the world has died a little, too. I can't hear anything around me. Ever so gently, I pull out Jet's sword, as though Sokka might be able to feel it. My knuckles clutch around the hilt before I launch it into the trees.

I slump forward, cradling my brother on my lap and resting my face on his chest. Part of me wants to shake him so hard he'll have to wake up. But the more rational side of me knows he's gone—I _felt_ him leave me, like part of my soul died, too. So instead I do nothing but clutch him against me, too stunned and broken to do anything else but rock him like I'd imagine our mother would do if she was here.

I pull back to examine Sokka's face, knowing this is the last time I will see him, ever touch him, feel him. I want to convert every detail of him to memory. The thought that someday I might forget the curve of his jaw, the way his lips turn up in a smile, the sound of his laugh—it's heartbreaking. I will never allow myself to forget these things. These little things that make Sokka who he is.

With a shaking hand, I use a finger caked with blood and mud to make a half-moon on his forehead: the mark of the brave. Even though it's customary to give the dead the marks before they're cast to sea in Province 9, I won't be there to see it, and I think he'd like this.

"No one can hurt you now," I say quietly, almost in a sing-song voice that's unfamiliar to me. Even though I've never heard my mother speak, I'd imagine it would sound something like this. "You're safe and sound."

I close my eyes tightly, and tears stream down my face. _Oh, Dad_, I think miserably. _I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me. Please look away._

I'm too consumed by grief to hear the advancing tributes. When I snap open my bleary eyes, my vision is blinded by fire.

Sokka and I are blasted backwards and I crash into the base of a tree. Dazed, I blink several times, waving a hand in front of my face to rid the smoke. Branches sizzle and break off the trees, crashing to the ground in a pile of ashes. The arena is hazy with fire and smoke, and it isn't until my eyes adjust do I spot the princess. Distantly, I know Ty Lee must be nearby. Sokka was right—the fight found me. And yet, Azula isn't looking at me. Her gaze is fixated on a figure in a tree, covered in mud and earth.

Suki.

"You can't stay up there all day," says Azula, through manic laughter, and she punches out more blue fire toward the trees; Suki is forced to leap from tree to tree in order to outrun the fire.

I see Sokka lying several feet away, his arms and legs at an awkward angle from the blast, his tunic ripped and bloody. The image is horrifying and uncomfortably exposed. I can't stand seeing him this way so I force myself to my feet and run through the chaos. I almost get hit with a wave of fire but duck just in time. I collapse onto Sokka, shielding his body from the falling debris of Azula's wrath. I know I should be fighting or fleeing but I can't do anything other than protect my brother. Like he has always done for me. Dead or alive, I won't leave his side.

The Elites must be letting the arena get more intense because the fire begins spreading, burning down trees and everything in its path. It's closing in and moving, like its alive and someone is controlling the strings. I've never seen so much fire before. And it's surrounding me—all I can see is blue. It's almost like being at home, all this blue, but there is nothing comforting. Even with all this fire, I feel so cold.

I can hear distant shouting through the chaos; someone might be sounding my name, but I can't seem to care. And then suddenly someone grabs me from behind, lifting me off the ground.

"We have to go!"

"No!" I struggle in the strong arms, kicking and fighting with everything I have, coughing against the smoke.

"He's dead! There's nothing more you can do!"

"I don't care!" I can barely hear the voice over the burning wood, but I can finally make it out. "I won't leave him!"

"You have to let him go!"

"I _can't_." My voice breaks.

Suddenly I'm crying again. My eyes hurt from the smoke, from losing Sokka. Fire and water blur my vision. My fingers wrap around Sokka's tunic, but Zuko is too strong, and he rips me away, just as the sound of splitting wood fills the arena. I look in its direction through blurry eyes to see a tall, burning tree, falling toward me, like it's going to crush me. I hope it doesn't hurt.

The ground shakes, and I'm thrown out of the way as the tree crashes to the ground; I roll over bits of broken earth, rocks digging and cutting into my skin. The smell of rust and salt, of blood, fills my nose. _My nose is bleeding_, I think. Everything is bleeding.

"Let's go, Sugar Queen!" I hear over the roaring flames.

That voice—I'd know it anywhere, I think, dazed and shocked. Through the hazy debris of collapsing earth I see Toph, her small head popping out of the ground. I can't believe she's here. Why is she here? What's she doing down there? I get to my knees and look around for the prince, but I can't see him through the smoke. I can't see Sokka, either. I bend over, hacking and coughing, and wipe my bloody nose.

"Move!" Toph yells. "Now, come on! Run now and live to fight another day!"

The words remind me so much of Sokka that my mind instantly clears, like a haze lifting from my vision. He would say something like this and he'd want me to do it. _Run_, he had said. _Run_, Pakku had said.

I get up shakily, and the world tilts as I run toward Toph. I can't be more than twenty feet away but it's like running in slow motion, every sound and movement drawn out in. She holds out a hand and I reach out to her. _Almost there_, I think, _almost there_—lightning suddenly blocks my path, shattering the ground, Toph vanishing behind a blinding white light and exploding earth. Her scream echoes in my head.

I can feel the impact of the lighting shoot up my legs, tingling and trembling, and the incredible force of it blasts me backwards. I cry out my brother's name just as I hit the ground, hard. So hard that everything goes black.

A canon goes off in the distance.

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><p><strong>AN:** Sokka's death is the scene that's been written for awhile. :( His death made me really sad because it literally kills Katara inside. He's pretty much been her other half all these years. I really, really hated killing him but it has to happen. *sighs* As you can tell, this chapter is inspired by Taylor Swift's new song Safe & Sound, which was written for The Hunger Games movie. Azula and Zuko originally were going to have a fight in this, but I'm saving that for later. ;)

**Review Responses:**

**Justice333: "I can't figure out for the life of me what made jet betray katara."** - I feel like I should explain Jet a little. :P I wouldn't say he betrayed Katara. Jet isn't her friend; he wants to win. Part of the games is making allies (so you can survive longer) and then waiting for the right moment to turn on them. Jet did what he thought was best for him to get a step closer to winning. He knows the numbers are dying down. He knows Katara and Sokka are likely to turn on him; why wouldn't they eventually? You've got to look at it from his perspective, then it makes more sense. ;) The opportunity to kill Sokka came so he took it. That's one less person he has to face in order to win.

**"were you planning on having sokka die like this or did you recently change his scene for other purposes?"** - I did plan it. Jet's death was tweeked a little. Originally Katara was going to slit his throat with a dagger, not an arrow, and leave him to bleed away. But it was too quick and not drawn out enough, I thought, so I added the extra dialogue between Jet and Katara, and the fact that he sneeks up on her from behind.

**"I wasn't expecting Jet to literally backstab katara, I guess there was some jealousy behind his motives?"** - I kind of explain this a little in the first review response but I'd like to add that when there's 24 tributes, there's enough people to form alliances and teams, so to say. But once the numbers start dropping, it turns more into everyone being on their own and against each other. No more teams. Jet knows this, and eventually in games like this, people are going to turn on each other to survive.

Now as far as jealousy..I'd say more like disappointment. Jet hates the Capital with a passion, and thought Katara did too, until he saw her relationship with Zuko. Not necessarily a romantic one, but definitely not hated or anything akin to dislike. He saw trust, mostly, and that bothered him more than just about anything else could. _How could she trust the prince of the very Capital who controls and ruins the world? The Capital is the reason she's in the games to begin with. _Those are some of his questions, and why he was so angry at Katara.

**BlueRoses12121: "And have you released the short yet?"** - Which short? :P

**Heat in Freezing: "I absolutely LOVE how you inserted Katniss' line "I just can't afford to think like that.""** - Thank you! I'm glad someone caught it. lol

**HunterX321: "Why doesn't Katara ask Toph if she AND Sokka can come?"** - I think she would if Sokka was there, but he's always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Toph can't sit around and wait for Katara to find Sokka. She saw her opportunity to escape, realized Katara was far away from the chaos, so she confronted her about it. If Katara believed there was a Province 13 and that escape was possible, she probably would have told Sokka about it earlier and said "we need to ditch Aang, Zuko, Jet and Smellerbee, find Toph and make a run for it." Katara does finally bring up Toph to Sokka out of desperation, but it's too late.

**"Also, at what level is Sokka's swordplay?"** - He's decent. He and Jet both scored an 8 out of 12 in training, I believe. But Jet has two swords, is a bit more ruthless, and pretty much took Sokka by surprise.

**: "When you write your story do you have an idea on how each character dies and when?"** - Sort of. I made a list of who kills who, earlier on, and some have changed a little as the story progresses. Sokka was always going to die with a sword in the stomach from Jet, and Katara was going to kill Jet. Aang was always going to die from lightning. I wasn't sure when these moments would happen, exactly, until the opportunity presented itself. Mai's death was a surprise for me; for awhile I wasn't sure how she was going to die. The order of deaths has kind of stayed the same in my head since the beginning, though I wasn't sure how far Ty Lee was going to go. Another upcoming character death has been planned literally from the start. It's going to shock people. :/

**AnnaAza: "I wonder if Suki got in the way just because she was there at the wrong time, or did she not like Jet?"** - Suki just wants to win, lol. Jet was focused on Sokka so Suki thought she'd take advantage and jump in on Jet.

**Onba: "I can't believe I thought Jet was Zuko for a moment!"** - That was my intention! lol I was hoping readers would wonder if it was Zuko. I see I got a few people on that one! Mwaha. :D

**BG-13: "What do you think it was like for Sokka to watch his sister do that and do you think Hama (in her twisted mind) enjoy watching Katara lose her cool?"** - I think Sokka and Hama were both shocked, but Sokka was also heavily distracted by pain. I think Hama probably..I don't know if I'd say enjoyed, but understood Katara in that moment and wouldn't hold it against her. I think she'd be proud in the sense that Katara showed her capabilities.

**Updated list of ALIVE tributes:**

Province 1 - Azula and Zuko

Province 5 - Ty Lee

Province 8 - Toph

Province 9 - Katara

Province 12 - Suki


	28. Invincible

**A/N:** I like this chapter a lot, despite how emotional it is. That's all. :D Enjoy!

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><p>"Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering.<p>

There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." - _Anthem_, Leonard Cohen

**Chapter 26 - Invincible**

Blue eyes smile up at me, but there's nothing happy about it. It's a sad, empty sort of gesture. All around me I see flames, hissing and spitting at me, but I don't take my eyes off his bruised and bloody face—my calm in a storm of raging fire.

His hand loosens in my grip.

"Don't!" I shout, over the roar of the fire. "I've got you!"

"Let me go, Katara," he says.

"I won't let you fall!"

"You have to," he says, and my sweaty hand slips out of his grasp. I scream as Sokka falls into the pit of fire, the flames swallowing him up. All I hear is him shouting my name, over and over.

_You did this, _someone says to me, and all I can think about is knowing they're right and knowing I can't stop it. I can't see through the fire. I can't hear over the screaming. Is it my voice or is it Sokka's? I can't tell and I wish they would stop.

Suddenly there's another voice, a new voice, one that's strong and sharp, drowning out the screams.

"Katara," it says. "Katara, can you hear me?"

My head is spinning. I try to open my eyes but it's too bright. Too many colors and shapes. My ears throb—it sounds like bombs are going off, explosion after explosion, each one sending me into a painful jolt. Is the world blowing up?

"You stay with me," the voice says again, strong, clear, even against the explosive sounds ringing in my ears.

"Is…that an order?" I manage to slur. Soft darkness threatens to engulf me. I try to open my eyes again, but the world quakes, and I'm jolted so painfully I black out completely. The last thing I remember is a snarling, terrifying voice and a brightness that burns behind my eyes. I think it must be a dream, but I don't remember dreams hurting so badly.

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><p>Without warning, my eyes snap open in alarm, burning like I've rubbed them with sand. Everything around me is dark, cold and clammy. The only sound a light drumming off in the distance, the air tainted with the rusty smell of blood and sweat. A bruised, bloody face looms over me and for a second I feel nothing but relief and comfort. But then I blink and those blue eyes are now a brilliant shade of gold, as bright as the sun against a midnight sky.<p>

_This is real, _I think. _Sokka is gone and this is real_.

And then very suddenly, everything comes back to me in such a devastating rush that I have to push the face away and sit up to heave. Since my stomach is empty, it's nothing but bile. It burns the back of my throat. I wipe my mouth with the back of my sleeve and scoot over, away from the mess on the stony ground. Everything hurts and every movement shakes with strain and pain.

I hang my throbbing head between my knees, breathing deeply, like my dad always says to do whenever I feel sick and dizzy. Unwanted tears leak from my eyes and I start to shake. I can feel those gold eyes watching me and even though a thousand questions are brimming just below the surface—Why are we here? What happened? How did I get here?—all I can do is sit here, pressing my palms to my eyes to keep the tears from spilling.

_Breathe, Katara_, I tell myself, still shaking. _Breathe. He's gone, but you are alive._

"You're safe," says a familiar, raspy voice, breaking the silence. Somehow, I believe him. It's a bizarre emotion. No one is safe in these Games. "You were dreaming."

"I wish I was." I swallow hard and pull my knees to my chest. "Everything burns—in my dreams and in reality. I just want it to end."

A light touch on my arm makes me flinch and look up. The prince, who should never have to kneel for any reason, is kneeling in front of me. The image is so startling that my mind completely blanks and all I can do is stare at him. He takes my shaking hands in his own. They're warm and a little rough, calloused like my brother's. Somehow I don't expect the prince to have a worker's hands. I don't pull away and after a moment, my hands stop shaking.

"You're covered in blood," says Zuko. He sounds tired. He _looks_ tired and ghastly pale.

"It's not mine," I say softly, a crack in my voice. "Jet. Sokka. I don't know."

"I didn't know how badly you were hurt," Zuko goes on. "You hit your head. Again. I tried wrapping it with fabric but you should wash off all the blood."

_It will never come off_, I think. _My hands are scarred forever with blood_.

"I have no water," I say instead.

Zuko reaches into the back of his pants and pulls out a damp cloth. When I do nothing more than stare at it blindly, he starts rubbing the fabric over my hands, around my fingers, washing off the dried blood. I sit still and tense, so still that I start to tremble all over.

"Relax," he says gently, and I do. Next he rolls up my sleeves and washes off my wrists and forearms; I watch him silently, not really sure what to do, and then I realize why it feels so disconcerting: I'm not used to someone taking care of me. Not like this, and not in this way since I was a little girl. My mind blanks again.

Zuko rubs the cloth against my palms, scrubbing a little harder. When he stops, he reaches out to touch my hair gently with a hand.

"It's in your hair, too," he says. "And on your clothes."

"I don't care," I whisper fervently, wishing he would stop. "I don't care."

When the prince finishes, I'm so relieved I forget to say _thank you_—or anything, for the matter. Not that he expects me to. He sets the red-stained cloth on the ground next to me and stands up. He pauses near a dying fire and punches a hand forward, so the flames dance gold against my vision. I don't realize how cold I am until I take notice of how warm the fire feels. My teeth chatter. I can barely feel my fingers. My clothes are damp from the storm, dried blood coating the fabric. I have no bedroll and no blankets. No food, no water, and no brother.

I watch the fire for what feels like a long time, not really seeing it. Zuko sits near the mouth of the cave, whether he's taking watch or giving me space, I don't really know. He asks me a few questions but I don't know what he's really asking. Everything he says seems to go in one ear and out the other.

I can't take my eyes off the flames. The way they move, shifting and ever changing, reminds me of water, and holds me in a sort of comforting trance. My head is still pounding and the back of my throat and eyes ache, but I can't cry. No tears will come. It's like I've used them all up and have to wait for replenishment. I'm not even sure if this is sadness I'm feeling. All I feel is empty. Maybe that's why I can't cry. I'm too empty. No tears are left.

"I'm sorry." Zuko's raspy voice filters down the cave to my ears, finally breaking through to me. "About your brother."

"No," I say, and my voice breaks, "you're not. You'd have no reason to be."

He's silent for a moment, and then he says, quietly and almost hesitantly, "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Volunteer," Zuko clarifies. "You gave up your life, your home, when you volunteered."

"I gave it up for Sokka," I say, closing my eyes tightly. "I couldn't let him go through this by himself. If he had to die, I didn't want him to be alone. No one should die alone."

"You gave it all up for him, and he gave up his life for you…" Zuko trails off, like he's puzzled by his own words. "Every decision he made in these Games was because of you."

"Wouldn't you do the same?" The words tumble out before I think them through. Zuko says nothing, and a heavy, thick silence hangs between us. For some reason it leaves me feeling very cold. Of course he wouldn't do the same. Of course he doesn't understand. "She's still your little sister," I say quietly.

"If I thought along those lines, I'd be dead, just like your brother."

I stiffen, biting down anger and hurt. "Well, that's one less tribute for you to worry about."

"It's one less for you to worry about, too."

"_Don't!_" My voice rings through the cave. "Don't say that! Don't you dare say that to me!"

"You're right," Zuko says dryly, "I'm sure it would have been better for the two of you to make it to the very end and then you could watch him kill himself."

I cringe and look up at the prince, but he's nothing more than a dark silhouette against the golden light of the fire. "He…we would have found another way," I say.

"There can only be one victor," he says, but I don't hear the prince's voice—I hear Sokka's. Suddenly I'm back in the woods, holding my dying brother, listening to him breath his last words:

_There can only be one victor_.

Pakku has drilled this into my head since day one, and so has everyone else. One victor. One survivor. Didn't I know this all along? Didn't I know that if I was to survive, Sokka would have to die? Yes, but knowing doesn't make it any easier. Part of me was hoping it would. But it hasn't. It still hurts. It hurts so much I can barely stand it.

I blink and see Zuko's face. His sudden appearance makes me jump in alarm. He's kneeling down in front of me again, the gold light catching the edge of his scar; I hadn't even heard him move. His pale face is smeared with blood and cuts, the face no longer belonging to the prince of the Capital.

"You've got to stop doing that," I say, but he holds out a hand silently, something thin dangling between his fingers. The light catches on a round, familiar blue stone, and recognition dawns on me.

"Where did you get this?" I ask slowly, and hesitantly pull it from his grasp; the ribbon slides through his fingers like running water. I run my thumb over the pendant, mesmerized and in awe. Am I still asleep? This can't be real.

"It came by parachute," Zuko tells me. "I thought it was for me, so I opened it. But once I saw what it was, I knew it must be for you."

I fumble with the clasp. My fingers are still stained lightly with blood, the color of burnt crimson. They're sore and stiff, refusing to function correctly. I nearly drop the necklace in my attempts.

"Here," Zuko says, and takes the necklace. He slides a hand under my unruly hair, bundling it into a fist; it makes a crunching sound from the blood dried up in the curls. I reach up and lift it off my aching shoulders. Zuko places the necklace around my throat and clasps the back. His fingers are warm against my neck. I drop my hair and touch the pendant.

"This was my mother's," I say wistfully. "My mother's betrothal necklace that I've worn since I can remember. It's one of the few things I have from her. I left it with my dad. He must have had it sent in for me because…"

I can't finish the sentence, and it hangs between us: _Because of Sokka_. Because it's my dad's way of supporting me, of trying to comfort me in only way he can. He must have already had it sent to the Capital days or weeks ago. Somehow, Pakku must have known this was the right time to send it in.

The tears finally come. I no longer care about looking weak in front of the Capital's prince or wondering if the Watchers are recording this. I don't care who is watching. Everything hurts too much to care.

I crumple forward, expecting to hit the stone ground, but instead strong hands catch me. They grip my forearms and slowly lower me forward until my face brushes against something warm. I can feel a steady rise and fall against my cheek. That sound and feel alone steadies and calms me. Zuko drops his arms—not putting them around me in the way my dad or brother might do—but he doesn't move from his position or say anything. My crying doesn't stop, but it slows, and I concentrate on Zuko's breathing as I lean against his chest. He's stiff under me, like he might be uncomfortable at our close proximity, but he doesn't push me away.

Sometimes that's enough.

* * *

><p>The warm and salty smell of something roasting wakes me. I sit up, a little disoriented, to find Zuko crouched by the fire, spinning what looks like two staked fish on a stick over the golden flames. He gives the fire life, shuffling stones around the flames so it doesn't spread. He's very careful in his movements, sliding each stone to the precise angle, never letting the flames get out of control. My mouth waters at the scent of the fish. I'm so hungry it hurts. My eyes feel puffy when I rub them, my hair a knotted mess of tangles. June should have packed me more bands to hold it back.<p>

A thin blanket fell off me when I sat up, and I don't notice it until now, when I look at my lap to examine the contents in my satchel. I drape the blanket around my shoulders and move toward the prince. We don't speak about last night, and when he's done with the fish, he gives me one without a word. I eat quietly, my mind whirling in visions of color. All I can see is Sokka dying in my arms. Aang's body flying through the air, crackling with lightning. Blood pouring from Jet's throat. Mai's startled eyes just before Azula killed her. So much blood and death, dancing behind my vision, whether my eyes are open or closed. I wonder if someday, any day, whether it's tomorrow or in fifty years if I survive, if the visions will ever go away.

"Here," Zuko says, once we finish with breakfast—or is it lunch or dinner? What day is it?—and tosses me a canteen. "I filled this up for you to use. Your bow got lost in the fire."

I give the canteen a little shake, relief swelling in me when I hear the slush of water. "Where did you get this?" I ask.

"It was sent in."

"Your mentor or mine?"

Zuko raises a brow. "Does it matter?"

"Well, I'd like to say thank you," I say with a shrug. "Where did you find the water?"

"There's a stream nearby," says Zuko, standing up. "I found it on accident. I'm going to take watch."

I look back at the canteen and peer at my distorted reflection. I barely recognize the girl that stares back at me. Wild brown hair, crunchy with blood. Shallow, cold face, drained of color. Sad, glazed blue eyes. A red stained cloth plastered around my head. I look away, hating the monstrous image too much to stare any longer. The canteen is a shiny, sleek metal. It looks brand new and top quality. It has to be from one of Zuko's sponsors; I doubt any of mine can afford this. Even if I ask him directly, though, I know he won't answer me.

"I got him out," Zuko says suddenly. When I look up at him, he's turned away from me, facing the opening of the cave. The rain has stopped; a cloudless sky just beyond the opening. "Your brother," the prince clarifies. "I dragged him out of the fire."

_And me_, I think, wondering how that was even possible, but it doesn't matter because Sokka gets to go home. He can have a proper burial with my dad and all of Province 9 like he deserves. A warrior's burial. His body didn't burn to ashes. He's home.

"Why?" I ask in a small voice. "Why did you do it?"

Zuko unsheathes his swords. He doesn't turn around, but peers over his shoulder slightly. "Someone once said that everyone should be buried by the people who love you."

My lip trembles, and for a horrifying moment, I'm afraid I'm going to cry again, but to my surprise, a broken sort of smile breaks apart my lips. I want to say something, anything, but suddenly there's a huge lump in my throat and nothing comes out. At my silence, Zuko shifts, peering over his shoulder to look at me. _Thank you_, I should say, but I'm afraid I'll cry if I start talking. My lips form the words instead. The prince doesn't miss them. He tips his head once in acknowledgement, a look of understanding in his eyes—but how can he understand?—and then he moves to the mouth of the cave.

I stare at his back for a long time, wanting to say something more, but not knowing what. I think of him carrying Sokka and me away. I think of the fish, of the shelter of the cave. I think of him pulling me up from the Badgermoles. I think of how he gave me back Yue's necklace, even though I still have his crown. I think of how he could have killed us when we suffered from the spider-snake venom. I think of how he carried On Ji, and how we use Waterbending and Firebending together. I think of the canteen, filled with water. I think, suddenly, of all these little things that I've been overlooking.

I think I was wrong. Somewhere, hidden deep under the layers of a cold exterior, the prince of the Capital does have a heart.

Later that night, we huddle around the kindling fire, planning. We go over everything we know—the arena, the animals, strengths and weaknesses—anything that can be helpful. We don't talk about each other. If by some miracle we do manage to kill Azula, I have no idea what will happen next. I'm not sure he does, either. Sokka was always the one to think ahead. I prefer to wait until the problem is right in my face before dealing with it.

"Besides us, there are only four others left," I say, "Suki wo—"

"The little girl is dead," Zuko says suddenly, with slight reproach. "From Eight."

I stare at him, waiting for him to correct himself, but he stares at me with that open, honest face that tells me that he isn't going to. My heart sinks and I swallow hard, my throat as dry as a desert. Toph is…dead? And then I remember: the crackling of lightning, the ground exploding, seeing her face vanish behind the brightness. I think of her tunnels, her brilliant escape no other tribute has ever achieved—all ruined because she came back for me.

_You did this_, a voice says to me. I shake my head.

"But," I start, not wanting to believe it, "how do you know?"

"Her flag is down," says Zuko.

"Did you see her?" I persist. "Her body, I mean."

"Katara—"

"Did you _see_ her," I say again, louder.

"She's gone." His voice borders on frustration.

"She could have escaped!"

Zuko stares at me, incredulous. "Escape to where? There is no escape!"

Suddenly I'm aware of the Watchers and the Capital but I'm so angry at him that I almost don't care. "She could have escaped to…to another Province! You didn't see her body—she could have made it. How do you know for sure?"

"Would you _listen_ to yourself?" Zuko snarls at me. "You're not even making sense. Obviously you need more sleep."

"_I'll sleep when I'm the victor!_" I shout, so loud and terrible that the prince just stares at me. His eyes are wide, like he's looking at a rabid stranger.

"If you keep running right into death traps then that's not going to happen," he says finally. He's tense with anger, but his eyes are no longer flashing. "Azula nearly killed you."

"What do you care?" I ask bitterly. "You know, why bother even bringing me here? Do you have some sick and twisted torture planned out for me?"

I know I sound nasty when I should be grateful for everything he's done but I don't care. I'm too angry and hurt by everything to care. I don't even know who I'm angry at the most. My dad always says we can never get over our pain until we know its face. And I can't put a face on it.

"If I wanted to kill you," he says, "I would have done it already."

"I suppose if we make it to the end you'll have your chance." I say sarcastically, bitterness coloring my voice. "You against me."

"Agni Kai…" Zuko murmurs, looking away, a muscle in his jaw working. Like throwing water onto burning flames, his fire is gone. He looks lost in a tormented memory.

"A what?"

He clears his throat, looking pained and uncomfortable all of the sudden. "Agni Kai," he says again. "A duel between two fighters. It's an old tradition in the Fire Provinces."

"Have you been in one?"

"A couple." His abrupt, sharp tone startles me. The sudden stillness and rigid posture. The way his eyes flash when I spoke. I know I should probably drop the subject, but it's gotten too interesting for that.

"And what if I challenge _you_ to an Agni Kai, Prince Zuko?" I try to sound like I'm teasing, hoping to give warmth to the sudden change in temperature. I'm not sure if it works.

He's silent for a moment, and then he looks up, meeting my eyes with a hard stare. "Then I will fight you," he says, in a subdued, quiet voice. "And you will lose."

I hold his gaze, unflinching. Somehow we're both on our feet now, standing inches apart; I can feel his warm breath on my face as I look up at him. We're dangerously close. I suddenly think of Jet. How I squeezed his throat, tearing my nails right through his skin. How I rammed the arrow straight into his bloody flesh without hesitation. How even now, I don't feel bad and I don't regret it. The only regret I feel is that I hadn't done it earlier.

"You don't know what I'm capable of." My voice is no louder than his, equally as low and lethal. "And even you are not invincible, Your Highness. Your sister is your blood. Whether or not you care for her, you _will_ hesitate. You are not as heartless as you pretend to be."

His eyes are still hard, but he raises a curious brow. "I thought you said I had no heart."

"Everyone has a heart," I say. "But not everyone remembers they do."

"If you let yourself remember, then you're going to lose this game."

I think about that for a moment, mulling over his words. Is that really true? I suppose it is. Sokka protected me every step of the way, thinking more with his heart than his brain, and it got him killed in the end. Or did his heart keep him alive longer in the Games? Doesn't your heart give you the fuel to keep fighting? What's the point in trying to survive, in fighting, without a reason in the first place?

I shake my head. "You wouldn't want to win so badly if your heart wasn't in it."

His face jerks, expression shifting into a look I would have never imagined could cross the prince's face. I can't even describe it. "That's the thing," he says. "If I win, I _still_ lose."

I don't know what he means, and open my mouth to speak, but my words are drowned by a sudden, terrible roar that shakes the cavern walls, sending me to my knees; I crash into the prince. Bits of rock break through the walls, falling on top of me. Instinct shoves me forward and I grab Zuko's shoulders, trying to knock him down and shield him with my body, but he's doing the same thing to me and both of us end up taking the brunt of the rocks.

There's another loud roar, and this time the prince jerks me to my feet. The ground is still shaking; I have to grapple at the wall for balance.

"Go!" Zuko shouts, shoving me away from the mouth of the cave, toward the darkness. I haven't been anywhere but this main cavern. I have no idea what lies in those shadows, but the roar is coming from _outside_ the cave, forcing us to run deeper or face it. "I'll hold it off and catch up to you!"

"What is it?" I ask, and fall to my knees again as the ground gives a violent shake.

Fire bursts into the cave, fire like I've never seen. It's blue and green and violet, the colors twisting beautifully and terribly. I stare it, almost frozen at its beauty, and watch as it surges toward me. Zuko moves his arms in a wide, sweeping gesture, and parts the fire like they're waves of water. He shouts at me again, a sling of instructions and barking orders I don't catch. But I catch a single word, one that sends me running into the darkness without hesitation because whatever lies ahead cannot possibly be as bad as what Zuko is facing.

_Dragons_.

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><p><strong>AN:** Of course there's going to be dragons. How can I not? :D This chapter was emotionally difficult. I knew it would be, because it's sort of the after effects of the storm. Zuko was challenging too, because I wanted to write his reaction to Katara realistic. One thing I just love about them is how they go from fighting, talking about killing each other, to protecting each other. Katara gives Zuko a death threat in The Western Air Temple then reaches up in Appa's saddle to save him from falling to his death. Their relationship is so interesting to me, in canon and in here.

Bonus chapter at 600 reviews. Your choice of a snippet from the final chapter of this OR a snippet of the first chapter of Insurgent, the sequel. :D

**Review Responses:**

**HunterX321: "We didn't really get to see Sokka be smart."** - Gah I know! I almost kept him alive simply to have him in the sequel, when his smarts would come in very handy, but his death needed to happen to help develop Katara's character arc. A lot of his strategic moments are off screen, sadly, like in the beginning and when he joins Jet's group. Since we're in Katara's shoes, we don't get to see that. I wanted to write more brilliant!Sokka, but there just wasn't enough time. Not when I have remember my main ship at work. :P Katara had to have one on one develop with Zuko. I only wish there could have been more time to have the three of them together. *sighs* Damn timing. lol

**Rochelle: "I have read SO MANY books throughout the years as well as MANY fanfictions and I want to make sure I tell you how great of a writer you are!"** - You are so sweet! Thank you! *hugs you* I'm honored to be your first review! Reviews are so meaningful to me; I always look forward to posting just to hear what you guys think.

**"But in your story not only are we familiar with these characters because of the show they come from but you let us get to know them in this new context as well. This makes letting them go that much harder."** - I agree, and that was my intention. I wanted to bring emotions to this story..that was my goal. And it's hard to care about characters dying unless you get to know them. Katara isn't like Katniss, so it was easier for her to be interested in the other tributes. And we all know how emotional she is, so obviously she's going to care for some of them, even though they might try to kill her. It's one thing I find very frustrating yet equally as admirable in her.

**happilyinsane13: "But Katara really can't change anything if she wins, Zuko can."** - A few reviewers have said this and I'm curious lol. What does everyone think Zuko can do? Assuming he wants a change, that is. We know (based on the bonus scene) Ozai has said if Zuko wins, he will have his father's respect. We know in the series that when Azula taunts him with his honor and Ozai's love, he turned his back on Katara in the season 2 finale. Uh oh..foreshadowing? Maybe, maybe not. But will Zuko turn on his father if he feels like he's finally earned his respect and love? AND even if he does, then what? Zuko is only one person. Ozai has armies and ships and military and thousands of men at his disposal. Say Zuko decides to kill his father. Does he become Fire Lord? What happens to someone who murders the current Fire Lord? What's the law on that one?

Just things to think about...:P

**Gryffygirl: "Have you ever watched someone die brutally? They barely have the strengtht to say a few words, let alone carry on a conversation."** - I wrote this scene like 10 times lol. Trying to make sure it wasn't too rushed or too long. The scene isn't really more than a few minutes, it just seems longer because it's in first person so every thought and detail is written. But the reason Sokka is able to talk, I think, is because of his sheer desire to stay with Katara as long as he can. I think Katara even says she's shocked that he's still talking. It's one of those adrenaline miracles, where you push yourself past the possible.

**Like A Dove: "My first two theories are based off of the idea that even though there is only one winner of The Black Games, that doesn't necessarily mean that everyone involved in the Games is going to die."** - Good point! I like the way you think. :D I'm not saying that's what's going to HAPPEN, I'm saying it's probable, and I like seeing someone thinking outside the box.

**DestinyCrusader: "In a lot of ways, she's like Katniss, but in better ways, she's different. See, Katniss sang to Rue when she knew Rue was going to die. But Katara didn't accept it til the very end, when she was absolutely out of all ideas."** - Yeah, I've enjoyed being able to look at their differences, despite the shared situation they're in. I think that's something I admire more about Katara is her unyielding, as you say, personality and that sort of refusal to give up hope. Even if it had been Toph or Aang in Sokka's place, I think Katara would still try to save them. It's just who she is, even though only one person can live in the end. Now had that been Gale instead of Rue, I think Katniss might of acted more like Katara, trying everything she can think of to save him.

**ShoeNinja: "For what it's worth, it is the first time any work of fanfiction has ever moved me to tears."** - I've never had a reader tell me they've cried in one of my fics and I've had several reviews say that about this story. I know it shouldn't make me HAPPY you guys cried or teared up but it makes me feel more accomplished because that means I'm doing my job. :D

**Me: "I was expecting Sokka to die, but it was just so sad!"** - It's ironic you say that, since Katara says the same thing in this chapter, and I think it's true. Even though you know it's going to happen, it doesn't make it any less sad. :(

**"How many more chapters left?"** - I'm going to guess..no more than five chapters? The final one is written, for the most part, I just have to get from here to there. :P

**SparklingGem: "Just out of curiosity will there be a love triangle?"** - Like in the sequel? Hm. Well, I just don't know..:P

**Dakota96: "Is it wrong that for some unknown reason I want Azula to win?"** - Of course not! Azula is definitely the most physically capable of winning. :D

**Sparkling unicorn: "Also, i dont understand where the fight came from?"** - Basically, everyone ran into one another but Katara was far away from the fray. Jet and Sokka break loose, because Azula and Ty Lee is focusing on Zuko. Eventually Katara runs into Jet and Sokka. Zuko is running from Azula and Ty Lee, and then since Sokka and Jet weren't that far away, Zuko runs back into them, dragging Azula and Ty Lee with him. Suki was doing her thing, being all sneaky and popping in and out of battles. That sounded very unprofessional haha but there's a quick summary. :P It was a moving fight, so to say, with lots of chasing.

**Updated list**

Province 1 - Azula and Zuko

Province 5 - Ty Lee

Province 9 - Katara

Province 12 - Suki


	29. Sweet Irony

**A/N:** I literally spent all day on the ending of this chapter. Probably wrote it five different ways. Gah. Anyway, long authors note at the bottom full of goodies!

* * *

><p>"When we are unhurried and wise we perceive that only great and<br>worthy things, have any permanent and absolute value.  
>That petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of reality" - <em>Henry David Thoreau <em>

**Chapter 27 - Sweet Irony**

Two things I know for certain. One: this is a real, natural cave, not one made by Toph. The smell is different. While Toph's tunnels smell of earth and nature, this smells clammy and salty, almost sulfuric. And two: I can't see anything. Not even my own hand waving in front of my face. I can't tell the difference when I'm blinking. Without fire or a source of light, I'm completely blind. A sharp pain rips through me as I think of Toph. I refuse to believe she is gone. She has to be the toughest, bravest tribute in these Games. Now that I'm just as blind, I can't help but be in awe in how she did it.

_No_, I think, correcting myself. That's not quite right. She said she feels the vibrations of everything around her in order to see, didn't she? I think it must be an Earthbender thing because I'm trying, but I can't _feel_ anything until I'm literally touching it. Or smacking into it. The cave is huge, wide enough that I can't even feel my way around. Every once in a while my foot catches on a jagged bit of rock on the ground and I trip, or the passage narrows and I bang my shoulders against the walls. But then it opens back up, and once again I have to grope the air and darkness. I force myself to slow down. What good am I if I knock myself out?

The walls shake with every roar in the distance, but it's dimming now, the deeper I move into the cave. If I let myself think about it too much, I'd admit I'm worried about Zuko, but I can't turn back now. I've never seen a dragon in my life. I have no idea how to even approach fighting one. All I know is that the sound of its roar indicates an enormous creature that also happens to breathe violent shades of fire. That kind of fire has to be fought with fire, or a heck of a lot of fire from me, which I don't have. Zuko has the upper hand here. I share Sokka's blood—maybe not as good as him, but I know how to navigate my way around. I can find a way out of here. That's what I need to worry about.

My eyes finally start to adjust to the darkness, but only a little, enough that I can see a few inches in front of my face. I keep my hands out stretched, moving in all directions, hoping if a rock sticks out wide enough in the cavern that I don't smack right into it. Every few seconds I reach down and pat my satchel and the canteen Zuko gave me, as though they might disappear in the darkness. The only sound I can hear now is the echoing of my footsteps against the rocky ground, mingled with my labored breathing. Every once I hear a scuttling sort of sound, like something is crawling on the walls or across the ground, but I can't see anything to be sure. It might be my imagination.

_I leave you alone, you leave me alone_, I think, and blow out a deep breath. It's so cold in here that I can now barely see it.

My hands drop to adjust my satchel, but I keep moving forward—and walk right into a wall. With a muffled yelp, I jump back. That hurt a little bit. I reach out, feeling the wall. I walk a little ways to the left and right, running my hand over the jagged surface. It's all rock. I've reached a dead end.

Panic surges through me. This can't be the end! There has to be a way out of here. Don't caves usually have a back entrance? Or do they only have the one? Frantically I move my hands back over the wall, this time sliding them up and down—that's when I notice something.

The wall is slanting downward.

Keeping my hands on the rock, I get to my knees and feel an opening gap, between the floor and the slanted ceiling. I lay my face on the ground and try to peer through it—it's complete blackness. I stick my hand inside and wave it around, feeling nothing but air. With a sinking feeling, I realize this is my way out. I have to get on my stomach and crawl through the crevice.

I pause here a moment, still bent down, wondering if this is a good idea or not. What if I get stuck? The crevice is wide enough for me to fit, but what if it narrows? This is the only way forward, but I can't see where I'm going, or what's waiting on the other side. Suddenly the idea of being stuck in a cave until I die of starvation or hypothermia sounds worse than facing a dragon. At least then I'll probably die quickly.

What would Sokka want me to do?

The ground starts to rumble, just a little, and then it starts to pick up. I shuffle to my feet, flattening myself against the wall. If the ceiling is going to cave in, there isn't much I can do. I look around wildly, searching the darkness, and that's when I see it. A small ball of light, off in the direction I have just come, advancing toward me. Quickly.

"Zuko?" I call out.

"Go!" he shouts at me. With the fire lit in his palm, I'm able to see the outline of the cave as he rushes toward me. It's so vast that I can't even see the ceiling or the walls on either side. The wall that blocks our path seems to stretch to infinite lengths.

I marvel at the fact that the dragon hasn't roasted Zuko for dinner only a moment. "There's nowhere to run," I say, once he skids to a stop before crashing into the blocking wall. "Unless—" I grab his wrist and pull his hand to the bottom, showing him the small opening "—you want to go through there."

The rumbling gets louder, a thundering roar shaking the walls. A chill creeps up my spine. Did the dragon follow him inside the cave? Or worse, is this the dragon's home?

Zuko looks at me with wild gold eyes, his mouth tight with strain. His messy dark hair is wet with sweat. Cuts bleed from his face, scratches along his neck. His left sleeve is completely ripped off, three deep gashes ripping apart the fleshy skin. The wounded arm hangs limply at his side, blood dripping all the way down to his fingertips.

"I'm fine," he says, catching the look on my face.

"That's not fine. You're not fine." I may not be an expert healer but I know a serious injury when I see one. "We need to wrap it up. You can't—"

"There's no time for that!" he snarls, but his words are mangled by another deafening roar. Pieces of what must be the ceiling crash on my shoulders—the sound of breaking rock shattering in the distance. The prince grabs my wrist and pulls me down, practically shoving me through the crevice.

I crawl on my stomach, using my elbows and forearms to inch me forward. Zuko shoots bursts of fire out in front of me to light the way, but all I can see is a never ending passageway. I have to tilt my head a little to the side so it doesn't bang against the ceiling. There's enough room for our bodies but not much more than that. If it gets any smaller, we won't be able to push through.

_Don't panic_, I force myself to think. _You're not going to get stuck. Just keeping going forward._

"Hurry!" Zuko yells, hitting me in the heels to move faster, but he doesn't need to tell me that. The sound of the ground trembling, the collapsing rock in the distance, the roars, all closing in is enough to get me moving faster. The ground is serrated and sharp, digging into my skin. Every movement hurts but all I can think about is how terrible it will be if I'm crushed between the rock. I'll gladly take cuts and scrapes over that.

The sound of exploding rock echoes in my ears so loudly that I actually jump and hit my head. I nearly scream, thinking the ceiling has collapsed, but then—

"Stop," the prince commands suddenly, sounding gentle and hushed despite the intensity in his voice. He grabs my ankle for emphasis and I freeze.

The fire goes out and we're plunged in darkness. It's eerily silent, like the calm just before a storm. And then I hear slow, thundering steps echo in my ears. Each step shakes the ground.

_Plunk. Plunk. Plunk._

Terrified, I cover my mouth to keep from making a sound. The steps are mingled with raspy, snarling breathing, almost a cruel purring sort of sound. I close my eyes, completely frozen in fear. The dragon did exactly what I had feared: it followed the prince inside the cave. Whether because this is their home or because Zuko makes a tasty snack, I don't know and it doesn't matter. What matters is that it's now in the cavern we were just standing in. There's no way it can bend down low enough to see us, but it can probably smell our scent and blood. Vaguely I wonder how large the beast is. From what I saw, the cave is clearly vast enough to permit a dragon.

I keep very still, hardly breathing.

The dragon shrieks a terrible, piercing sound. It isn't a roar, more like a frustrated cry. I cover my ears at the bone chilling sound. Something hard hits the ground, the sound so loud and rumbling I almost scream; everything around me quakes, bits of debris fall on me. If the beast knows we're down here and blasts away the rock with its fire, we'll be crushed.

"Move!" Zuko shouts, and shoves me forward as the dragon cries out again. "Go, go!"

I crawl faster, pushing past the pain that shoots up my forearms. I can hear the dragon pacing behind us, giving more piercing cries. The sound is familiar, like I've heard it before, but I know that can't be right since I've never encountered a dragon before.

My hand finally breaks through an opening and I pull myself out of the crevice. Zuko is right behind me, and while I think we're safe for a moment, he grabs my wrist and pulls me after him. He lights a fire in his hand so we're not plagued by darkness. This side of the cave is narrower, the walls closing in as we slide, dodge and duck our way through the passageways.

"Why can't we slow down?" I ask, panting.

"It was calling for scouts," he says.

Shocked, I pause, but he yanks me forward. "_Scouts?_" I echo. "What are you talking about?"

"All creatures answer to the dragons," he says, in a tone that suggests I should somehow know this. "They're even more ancient than the phoenix. I saw fire scarabs in the cave and they're small enough to be sent after us. Trust me when I say they're worse than the dragon."

I think back to when I heard something crawling across the rocks. So it wasn't my imagination, it's an insect or bug of some kind. Worse than a dragon? Doubtful, but I'll take Zuko's word for it.

The ground starts to slope down so suddenly that we both go down, sliding against the bumpy surface until we crash at the bottom. I land on my back, hard, and lay there for a moment, dazed. A bright light beams from the corner of my eye and I get up, looking over at the prince. He's rubbing his head, holding out a ball of fire with his other hand.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Get up," he orders. "We have to move."

_I'm already up_, _Your Highness_, I want to say, but I'm just not in the mood. Everything aches and throbs. Cuts sting all over my arms and legs, on my neck and face. I have half a mind to sit down and wait for the dragon or fire scarabs. I'm just so tired.

"I said get up," Zuko says—I didn't realize I sat back down—and pulls me to my feet.

I glare at the prince, angry at him suddenly, and lean against a wall, determined to stay standing even if it kills me. Anything to not hear that barking, princely voice of his ordering me around.

"There," Zuko says, pointing toward the ceiling with a fistful of glowing fire. "Our way out."

We have to be at least thirty feet below but I still spot the glittering stars through an opening crack in the ceiling. Moonlight shines down through the cavern. It looks so close yet so far.

"We have to climb out," I say with a sigh. The idea sounds awful but it's our only option. The walls are jagged enough to provide decent gripping, as long as we don't lose our balance or strength.

I look back at the prince, and my eyes drop to his arm. It's bleeding and charred so badly I can barely see his pale skin through the blood. He can say he's fine all he wants but that arm is no good.

I already know the answer, but I double check my satchel anyway. Of course, no bandages. I have to improvise. I rip and bite my way through my sleeves, tearing them off, and then I move to the prince.

"Let me wrap that," I say, and when he jerks away from me, I yank him by the wrist. "Stop being so stubborn and let me help you."

"You're one to call _me_ stubborn."

"How are you going to climb?" I ask, ignoring him. I continue wrapping his arm, not bothering to look up. "Can you use this arm at all?"

"I'll be fine," he says, and pointedly disregards my frown. "We just can't wait around with this cave full of monsters."

"And here I was thinking that the worst monster in this arena was your sister," I muse. "Who knew about dragons and fire scarabs and badgermoles?"

Zuko isn't impressed with my joke and instead moves toward one of the walls, feeling the rock. We're in an almost hollow tower, sort of like when we were trapped in all that water and had to blast our way out, except now there are ledges and grooves. Not ideal but durable. Rope would be nice, but that would be just too easy, wouldn't it?

We start climbing. I have to badger the prince to go first. He'll be moving slower than me, and I can't have him falling behind. If anything comes after us while we climb, I need to be the one to defend us.

Oh, how the tables turn sometimes.

My foot misses a groove and I slip. Quickly my hand shoots out to steady myself; Zuko's head whips down to look at me.

"I'm alright," I say quickly. Mentally I take note the benefits of grip strength—my fingers are killing me. "Just keep going."

We're about three quarters of the way up when I hear it. At first I think its rain, but then I recognize it as that same scuttling sound I heard earlier.

"Go!" I shout at the prince, and he doesn't need telling twice. His foot slips and I catch it, placing it back into a groove before he topples down. The scuttling gets louder and louder, closing in, the sound so creepy I feel like I'm already covered in bugs, itchy all over.

The prince slips again, that injured arm giving out, and this time he starts to fall backwards. He's smart enough to push himself off the wall so he doesn't knock me down, but I reach out and snatch his hand as he falls; his body jolts in the air and crashes against the wall. Zuko hisses in pain at the impact. The sheer weight of him almost makes me lose my grip, but I manage to hang on.

"Climb past me," I say, and haul him up with every bit of strength I have. He barely uses his left arm, relying mostly on his right. He grits and hisses with every movement. I keep a hand pressed to his back, his legs, as he climbs past me, trying to give him some of the little strength I have left.

Something crawls up my leg and I cry out, trying to bat it away. It continues crawling up my leg, my stomach, my arm. It bites through the fabric on my back and digs into my skin at the nape of my neck. A searing, ripping pain momentarily blinds me. I scream and pull out the water from my canteen, bending it in the form of a whip. I lash it around my ankles, knocking the scarabs onto the ground below. I lash out again and again until I can't feel them around me anymore. They don't seem to like water.

I pull the water back into my canteen and start climbing, my eyes watering at the pain at the nape of my neck.

Zuko is quite a bit above me now—I have to move quickly. I get a few feet before more scarabs creep up the walls; I look down at kick at them. They're black and shiny, like buttons, small enough to fit in my palm. They hiss and spit at me, making irritating, critter sounds that just makes my skin crawl. My fingers stretch high and grope for a ridge, reaching, trying to get away but I'm so overwhelmed by the terrible scuttling sound of the scarabs closing in on me.

My neck feels like it's on fire.

I can hardly see through my tears. My fingers, weak from climbing, slip and I almost fall back, but an iron grasp encloses around my wrist and suddenly I'm hauled out the small opening of the cavern. I hit the ground, my knees smacking it hard enough to make my eyes water, but I'm on my feet in no time. Vaguely I'm aware that we're standing on a huge pile of rocks, high in the air, but I can't stand still. I'm screaming, my fingers digging just below the back of my neck, trying to remove the scarab that has dug its way into my skin. It hurts and burns so bad I'm hysterical.

"What? What is it?" Zuko asks, panicking.

"Get it out! Get it out!"

Zuko turns me around to face him; I fight him, clawing at the back of my neck, and he forces my hands away. He rips the back of my tunic and I dip my head down so he can see. Warm fingers brush my skin. I feel him pause and make the mistake of glancing up at him. The look on his face tells me how bad it is.

"This is going to hurt," he says, and his face jerks. "Hold on to me."

I grip the collar of his tunic with both hands and bury my head to his chest. Zuko knots a hand into my hair at the back of my head, keeping hold of me so I won't move. Then without warning, he presses his other hand to the bare skin on the nape of my neck, a hand balled in fire. Over and over, he burns me.

The pain is immediate and excruciating. I scream through broken sobs. It's so terribly awful I try to rip myself away but his hold is too strong. My skin finally breaks and I actually _feel_ the scarab pop out, leaving nothing but a raw, burning sensation. The bug hits the ground, tries to scuttle away, and I slam my foot on it. Black juices gush from it's body. My legs give out very suddenly and I crumble forward; the prince catches me and we both go down on sharp rocks.

"I'm sorry," he says into my hair, brushing it off my neck. "I'm sorry."

His fingers are wet, sticky with blood, and suddenly the burning at my neck is washed away by the memory of his mangled arm. I think of the dragon, of how if he hadn't distracted it, his arm wouldn't be mangled and nearly useless. I think of Aang, who died too quickly, too young, and too violently. I think of Sokka, who did everything he could to keep me alive.

And they all suffered. Because of me.

"No," I say, in a clouded, cracking sort of voice. "I'm the one who is sorry. It's all my fault."

"Water," the prince says suddenly, and shifts me off his chest into a sitting position. "It will soothe your burn."

I wipe my eyes. "I can't heal."

"It doesn't matter." He pulls off my canteen and reaches for my hand. Gently, he turns it over and forms a cup with my fingers. "Just keep control of the water and I'll press it against your neck. It won't heal it but it'll help the pain until we get some salve."

I don't know the last time he's seen salve grow on trees but I'm in too much pain to argue. I keep the water in my hand, focusing on the push and pull sensation. Zuko heats the water a little with his bending, and then he guides my hand behind my neck and presses it against the burning spot. At first I stiffen, hissing out through gritted teeth, but the pain slowly starts to fade. He's right: it doesn't heal the burn, but it takes away some of the stinging.

I relax a little, closing my eyes and keeping my head bowed between my legs. Zuko keeps hold of my wrist, moving my hand in a circular motion against the burnt skin. I'm thankful for his guidance because I'm pretty sure my hand is dead weight and limp in his grip.

"Will this help your arm?" I ask.

Zuko removes my hand. He dabs a wadded piece of cloth into the water and places it over the burn. It stings, but not nearly as much as it did. It's more like an irritating, uncomfortable sort of pain.

"No," he says. "Yours is a burn—mine was a scratch."

A scratch. I almost laugh. What an understatement._ A scratch from a _dragon's_ claws, Your Highness_.

"It might help," I offer. "I don't want you getting an infection. Water will at least wash away some of the germs."

"Quit worrying about me and worry about yourself." For some reason he sounds furious. "Don't…" he pauses, taking a sharp, agitated breath. "How can you even think of helping me when I just burned you?"

I'm so shocked by what he says that I bat his hand away and turn to face him. "It's not even like that. You…you saved me. If anything, I should be _thanking_ you."

Zuko's eyes harden and he looks away. "Don't thank me. I should have climbed second. I should have cut it out with my sword."

Um, definitely not.

"Zuko—"

"I've probably scarred you," the prince cuts in, his voice sounding distant and flat. "Permanently."

"What does it matter?" I bark out a bitter sort of laugh. "I'll probably be dead in a few days anyway. And in case you haven't noticed, my arms are covered with scars."

The prince is sitting propped against rock, his legs bent, arms resting on his knees. He looks down, wrapped in some sort of sudden torment I don't understand. He's rigid all over, tense with some kind of emotion. His head bows, dark hair covering his face. He looks as exhausted and strained as I feel.

"It's just a scar," I say softly. I brush the hair from his face back, revealing the scar of his own. It's hardly noticeable against the blood and dirt painted across his skin. My hand lingers at his temple.

His eyes flicker up to mine, almost reluctantly, pools of gold emotion.

"We wear our scars," I say, "but they don't have to wear us."

"It's not that simple," he says, and turns the scarred side of his face away.

I drop my hand. "How is it not?"

"It just isn't." He sounds terribly frustrated. "It's…I didn't want to hurt you. I'm not…"

The prince stops short, his body tense with aggravation. Words are there—I can see it on his face—he just doesn't know how to say them. The emotion, though, is easier for me to read.

"You feel guilty," I say, leaving no room for disagreement. Seeing him now, this guilt ridden shadow of the prince I remember seeing for the first time at the plaza, I realize he doesn't fully understand how guilt and forgiveness works. It makes me wonder what other omissions he carries on his shoulders.

"And it's okay if you do," I add softly. "Just know that it's also okay to forgive yourself. If it makes you feel any better, I would have burned you too, if that's what it took to save you. I had to grovel and lose all my pride for the phoenix tears, you know."

His mouth twitches, almost into a smile. He leans his head back against the rocks and closes his eyes. He's so still all the sudden that I actually drop my gaze to his chest to make sure he's still breathing. His left arm, the injured one, sits propped up in his right one.

I shift and lean a shoulder into Zuko's chest—not wanting to put any pressure on my burn—and take his injured arm into my own, cradling it like it's something precious. He's reluctant at first, tense with strain, but once I tug his arm closer to me, he softens a little. The guilt he feels over the burn—I know the feeling. I feel it now, cradled in my arm.

I gaze upward. A cloudless night, the stars shine brightly, the moon casting a silver glow over arena. I could stare at that sky for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. Stories tell the beauty of the sun but the daylight does not have stars.

"Do you think the dragon will find us up here?" I say. "Or has it gone away?"

We're higher than I've ever been in the arena, higher than the trees. The cave is more of a small mountain, really, and we just happened to come out the top. We're both too exhausted and pained to try to scale down it. We wouldn't make it more than twenty feet. More worries for tomorrow, but I don't want them to ruin tonight. Tonight I want to sleep under the stars and pretend I have my whole life ahead of me without a care in the world.

"I'll take watch," Zuko says to me. He presses something cool against my burn—the cloth, I suspect. "You're safe to sleep."

"But you can't fight with one arm," I protest.

"Have you always worried more about others than yourself or is that a new thing?"

I'd like to take that as a compliment but it sounds more like an insult with the way he says it.

"I don't know," I say. "I've…never really thought about it."

"Well, it's a terrible strategy for the Games, just so you know."

"That terrible strategy saved your life a time or two," I argue. "Just so _you_ know."

"I do know," he says, and his fingers brush against the back of my neck. Not on the burn, but just above it, sliding my hair over my shoulder. The cloth touches my burnt skin, but it isn't enough to cool the heat that spreads through my body.

I hold on to his arm, while he keeps the cloth pressed to my burn, the two of us a tangled, bloody mess full of aches, cuts and bruises. Everything about me feels broken, like I've lost pieces of the puzzle that makes me who I am: Saying goodbye to my dad, losing Sokka, losing Aang, leaving my home. And yet I'm still here. The pieces might be broken and chipped, but I haven't shattered. The only thing keeping me from falling apart entirely, I realize with some irony and surprise, is the prince of the Capital who tore me to pieces to begin with.

_What a pair we make_.

I close my eyes, fatigue threatening to pull me under. I wonder idly if I say the words out loud, because Zuko says something against my hair, but I don't catch it. I'm already asleep.

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><p><strong>AN:** Yes, I went on Youtube and listened to dragon sounds to help me write them. /nerd Anyway, funny story. I found this cave when I went camping, got to the end, and realized the only way to keep going was to crawl through the opening at the bottom. So I crawled and sure enough, found a way out by climbing out. Yep, I felt like a real Indiana Jones that day. True story inspired for this chapter. Go me.

Anyway, now that we have reached 600 reviews, you get a **bonus**! Here is a snippet from Insurgent, taken out of context, so let your mind go crazy:

"I know what you did. I know your secret and I know how to help. You cannot wish to save [BLANK] alone and you have little time." - **Insurgent**

In other interesting news, I'm mapping out another Zutara, loosely inspired by the Disney movie Mulan. If you've seen that, how can you NOT think of Zutara? lol A female disguised as a boy, but falls in love with her commanding officer and saves the world? Come on. It's just asking to be written as a Zutara. Anyway, just like with this story, it will not be a carbon copy of the original. I'm taking the basic principle—Katara joining the Fire Nation under Zuko's command—and rolling with it. It will be in the same sort of manner as Love Thy Enemy—an awesome Zutara you should all read—with an army/military based kind of story. :D I'm excited about that. It will be called **Dark Side of the Moon**. Title inspired by the song "I'll Make a Man Out of You." ;)

**Review Responses:**

**frostypinkapple: "I really want to know what happened to Toph."** - First of all, what inspired your penname? lol I see the funniest pennames on here! Anyway, the truth of Toph is revealed in the sequel, whether she's really dead or alive, you will find out for sure in Insurgent. ;)

**Like A Dove: "I feel for Zuko. He's probably so torn and confused and he's feeling lots of different things and doesn't know how to put those feelings into words."** - This is why I chose to write in Katara's point of view and not his, haha. He's hard to write from another perspective; I can't imagine being in his head all the time.

**me38242: "wow i didn't think anyone read reviews except for the author."** - I loved your drabbles! It made me feel like a real author, haha. That makes me so pleased to know I've inspired someone enough to write fanfiction about my fanfiction. You're awesome! There's scene I've written that's similar to one of yours, actually! Great minds must think alike. ;)

**ZukoXKatara: "will Zuko ever kiss Katara?"** - Yes ;)

**poprocx: "we are both big fans of ALTA and THG, and im telling him all about your fanfic over facebook because he is stationed in afghanistan right now we love it."** - Well thank you so much! You're husband is a brave and honorable man. I've been researching military terms/ranks for my upcoming Zutara fic. Perhaps I can ask you if I have any questions? :) Also as for updating, I try to update every two weeks or so.

**RewritingLife: "I was wondering that since Toph finished the tunnels, couldn't zuko or katara( maybe even both), can't they manage to escape using toph's tunnels?"** - This is brought up in an upcoming chapter. :D

**Gryffygirl: "I never got to see the bonus scene."** - They are in chapter 14 and 19 of this story. ;) Also, a Youtube trailer was made for another bonus. The link is in my profile.

**BetterDeadThanAlone: "in my opinion Katara killed Sokka by default. I blame his death on her."** - You make a good point and this is something Katara struggles with in upcoming chapters. When Katara volunteers, she isn't thinking about the chance Sokka has to live, she's thinking about the chances of him dying. Which in her eyes, seem higher. Katara has this trait of having to do something, rather than doing nothing. "I will never turn my back on those who need me!" That kind of thing. I don't think she could have stood watching him fight and die, while she was safe at home. If the two had made it to the end together, I'm not sure what would happen. Katara would do everything she could to stop him from killing himself, obviously. It would have been a bad situation.

**Black Firelight: "i just wanted to share with you how depressing it is to see the scroll bar show me that there is still plenty of chapter to go...only to scroll down and it's really review replies. XD it's like a crushing low blow! XD"** - Haha I know what you mean! I try to write about 3,500-4,500 words per chapter of actual story. This one was 4,300 I think. ;)

**Nightlight753: "will a character resembling Gale in this fanfic make an appearance?"** - This might sound weird because I actually ship Katniss and Gale. But I consider Sokka the "Gale" of this story, in the sense of being a piece of home, someone familiar, someone the heroine loves and could never replace. Gale knows Katniss inside and out, like Sokka knows Katara.


	30. Caged Birds

**A/N:** I didn't expect to update this quickly but your reviews made me want to write. :D Enjoy!

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><p>"The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown,<p>

but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom."

- _I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings_, Maya Angelou

**Chapter 28 - Caged Birds**

The heat wakes me. I've never been able to sleep very well with the sun right in my face and today is no different. I sit up hastily and the pain is immediate: A sharp jab in my neck; my back completely stiff. I ache all over. Somehow, I'm not dead, despite feeling like I've taken a trip down death road, taking a beating along the way. My eyes bat open and I untangle myself from a heavy slumbering prince. It's hard to distinguish whose legs belong to whom. We're both in black, and the fabrics are torn, bloody and dirty.

I look at the prince's injured arm, and frown. The bleeding has stopped, but the cloth I wrapped his arm with is stained red with crusts of blood. I'll have to work on it soon or it'll only get infected, if it isn't already. Zuko stirs a little as I push his good arm off me but doesn't wake up.

"Good morning, Your Highness." I try to sound pleasant, but I feel too horrible to make it very convincing. The burn on the back of my neck is still tingly, and moving my head too much only makes it worse.

I nudge the prince for good measure but he doesn't even acknowledge me. I look at his face, and cringe. The morning light reveals the abrasions on his face more deliberately, a warm flush on his usually pale cheeks. Dark shadows hollow under his eyes, giving his face harsher lines. I press the back of my hand to his forehead.

He's burning up. Feverish, even. Beyond the norm of a Firebender.

"Zuko, get up," I command firmly.

He remains unresponsive. Even though I can hear him breathing, I feel his pulse as extra reassurance. It's steady, but slower than I'd like. Too slow and drawn out.

Now my feet, bending over him like this will somehow make a difference. My body aches with strain but I push past the pain. "Get up," I say again, and slap the prince lightly across the cheek.

Still nothing.

"This is not the time for this," I say, suddenly angry. I straighten completely upright and let out a lengthy, irritated sigh. I look around. I look down. I look anywhere but at him. We're stuck on a pile of rocks, high as the trees, and I have an unconscious ally who seems to be caught in a sudden fever and bleeding to death. I can almost hear Pakku's laughter.

_Good choice, Katara. _

I glare at the prince, despite the fact that his eyes are shut. "I suppose you think I should carry you," I say dryly. I stumble over the rocks toward the edge of the mountain. Careful not to lose my balance or hurt my neck too much, I lean over the edge to have a look down.

We're way too high for my comfort. I can see the flags from here, quite easily. My face scrunches up at the prospect and I look back at the prince. His head—which was propped back against the rock a second ago—is now pitched forward, hanging limp at an uncomfortable angle. Black messy hair skewers his face.

"Now that just looks uncomfortable," I mumble, walking back to him and tilting his head back against the rocks. I brush the hair away from his eyes. The back of my neck tingles, and my fingers slowly start to migrate to his scar, unintentionally, but I draw my hand back sharply. "Guess I better look at your arm now that you can't fuss at me about it."

I have to move slower than usual, not whipping my neck around too quickly. I gently unwrap the black cloth, which has gone stiff from all the dried blood. The cuts are deeper than I thought. Three long claw marks, taking up nearly the length from his elbow to his wrist. The flesh is crusted and red, like a summer burn. The smell is nauseating.

"It looks worse," I say through pursed lips. "You better hope I can help."

I pull some water out of my canteen and rinse my hands first. Blood is caked under my nails, cuts from the rock climb sliced through my skin. Once I finish, I start cleaning the gashes on Zuko's arm, washing away the blood and dirt. The skin tears a little and the cuts start to bleed again, but I keep rinsing the water until the wounds are clean. Back at home, the healers would stitch up such a deep wound, but I don't have anything to use as threading. I've only done it once, anyway, and Sokka was not pleased with the result.

I rinse the cloth until there is no more blood and then pull away the water, drying it. Something warm drips down the side of my cheek—sweat, I suppose—but when I wipe it away, it comes back a dark shade of red. Even though my face feels fine, I frantically touch it all over. My cheeks, my eyes, my lips, my neck. The fingers on my left hand come back sticky and red. My gaze flickers around desperately—and lands on the prince. His black tunic is torn open. Blood soaks the front of his shirt, leaving dark stains against the dark material.

I touch my face again, slowly, running my fingers over my skin. No cuts. No scrapes. Nothing hurts. My skin is smooth, if a little sticky.

My stomach twists in sudden realization. It's not my blood on my face. It's Zuko's. I must have fallen asleep like that, my face against his chest. There's no other explanation.

He's s hurt more than he let on and it isn't just his arm.

_Of course_, I think bitterly. _He fought a dragon by himself. What did I expect?_

Betrayal. That's what I feel first. Not just at Zuko, but at the night and the moon and everything about it. Had it not been so dark, had the sun been out, I might have noticed his condition sooner. I should have demanded to inspect him, to check more than just his arm, but I was just so exhausted last night and that damn bug threw my mind for a loop. What if I'm too late now? What if he's past the point of recovery? My dad always says it doesn't come down to the things we do, but the things we _don't do_.

For just a moment, my mind blanks, too many conflicting emotions filtering through me. A bleak, cold wind of rationality and logic, though, seem to cloud my emotions. There are only five tributes left in the Games. Zuko has a fever, and could possibly die from blood loss or infection. If he dies, then there are only three more tributes for me to worry about. Three girls standing in the way of my ticket home.

I look back at the prince, biting my lip. I could leave him here. I could trek down the mountain, putting as much distance between us as I can. Maybe he'll wake up, maybe he won't. I could take his swords, just in case he does. Leaving him here, wounded and ill, is probably in my best interest. I'm sure it's what Pakku is mentally screaming at me to do. But I'm not thinking about Pakku, I'm thinking about June, and a conversation we had before the Games.

"_I'm not a killer, June. I don't want to turn into a monster. What if I do something I'll regret?"_

"_I don't believe in regrets."_

"_But if you did."_

"_If I did, and I found myself contemplating something I might regret, I suppose I'd ask myself this: will I be able to live with myself in the morning? Because if I couldn't, then I'd know I'd probably regret it."_

I look back at Zuko, at the bloody and torn remainder of the Capital's prince. I look at his wounded and nearly useless arm, the arm I already cleansed. My eyes find his scar, and this makes me think of him burning me last night, terrified and tormented about giving me a scar of my own.

_If I leave you, will I be able to live with myself in the morning?_

Whether it's because I ask myself this question or because I really look at him now, the answer is suddenly obvious: I won't be able to live with myself in the morning if I leave him. I won't be able to live with myself _ten minutes_ from now if I leave. Just thinking about it now leaves me feeling a little empty and alone, like I'm traveling down a dark path in which I can't see the end.

I can't leave him. Not now.

Resigned, I slump forward. I must be insane to save someone who ultimately could lead to my own demise. But not saving him—leaving him here—is no longer an option.

First I need to have a good look at him, locating all his injuries. His face, his chest, his stomach, his arms. Everywhere, if I can.

Oh.

I stare at Zuko's ripped and bloody shirt as though it somehow has grown fangs and is prepared to bite me. I guess, somewhere illogically in the back of my mind, I'm hoping that the shirt will somehow come off on its own if I just stare hard enough.

A faint flush colors my cheeks. It's not that I've never seen a shirtless man before. I've lived with two my whole life. Not to mention many lessons back at home are spent in the healing huts, patching up injured Trackers. But it's one thing to help an injured man out of his shirt and another entirely when the man is unconscious, completely unaware of my intentions. Somehow I feel like I'm trespassing on Zuko's privacy or violating him in some way.

_You can do this_, I reassure myself. _There's no going back now._

My hands start moving, first to the Dao swords. They're attached to a sheath around his body, so I slide that off and place the swords gently on the rocks. Then I reach down to Zuko's waist and untie his belt, quickly, trying to get that part over with as soon as I can. If I can just do it fast, then I don't have to think about how awkward this is—or how awkward it will be if he wakes up.

The shirt I handle more carefully. I remove an arm at a time, slowly, maneuvering the fabric with one hand, using the other to keep the prince propped against the rock. One sleeve is already torn, but it's still a tedious process and by the time I'm done I've nearly bitten my lower lip to pieces and a sweat breaks across my forehead.

A bloody mess stares back at me. Zuko's muscular and lean chest is marked with angry red crisscrosses and slashes. Crawling along the cave floor and climbing the walls must have added to the dragon attack, the rocks cutting deeper into his chest. His shoulder suffers a deep gash. Several long, jagged cuts are near his neck. The ridges of coiled stomach muscles contain patches of burnt skin, like a rash. His pale skin is actually stained red from all the burns and wounds. Zuko's scar nearly blends in against the smears of blood on his face.

I have no idea how he managed to hide this from me, unless I was more out of it last night than I recall. Even though he's clearly asleep, I can't help but think he looks a little pained. Suddenly my own aches don't feel as real.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I hear myself whisper, my voice suddenly so sad that I almost don't recognize it.

Not knowing what else to do, I decided to start with the water, but then a flash of color catches my attention from the corner of my eye. A parachute drifts toward me and I watch it, like it's a butterfly that's holding my curiosity. It burns red against the bright sun and lands near my feet, the parachute folding in on itself like a wilting flower. A sponsor's gift. My fingers dig through the silky parachute, almost ripping it apart in my anxiousness, to reveal a plain wooden box. Inside I find a small jar of salve, fresh wrappings, dried greenish-brown herbs, a small, gold rimmed cup, and what looks like a pile of crimson and gold rimmed clothes. A man's outfit, based on the size.

I sag backwards and sigh in relief. Someone must really want the prince alive. _He's royalty_, I have to remind myself. Of course he'll have wealthy sponsors. Though I'm grateful for the supplies, I'm a little bitter about the outfit. My tattered and torn montage has about run its course and I really don't want to run around in just my under wrappings.

_But you have salve_, I remind myself. _This will help your burn_.

Setting the box aside, I finish wrapping Zuko's arm, because even with his marred chest, it still seems to be the worst injury. Once I finish, I clean his chest with my water, rising out all the cuts. A few bits of dust and rock are lodged between the gash at his shoulder, so I use my fingers to make sure I get it all out. Once the wounds are rinsed, I immediately start to feel a little more relief. It already looks so much better. His chest isn't completely stained red now, just married with scratches and cuts. Still, it's not as bloody, which means I'm getting somewhere.

I dip my fingers into the jar—it's slightly warm and thick—and gently start dabbing at the cuts. Zuko's chest feels like iron beneath my fingers, corded with hard muscle. The grooves dip low between his collarbone and neck, a long gash sank between them. The salve must be the good stuff, though, because I can already see the difference in the pallor of his skin.

Zuko stirs a little when I wipe his face with a damp piece of cloth, a soft, pained sort of sound escaping his lips. His body tenses, a flicker of movement beneath his eyelids. I actually drop the cloth in surprise.

I press a hand to his cheek. It's so warm I almost retract it on instinct. Bringing down his fever might need to be my top priority.

"Zuko, can you hear me? Open your eyes," I say softly.

For a moment he's very still, hardly breathing, and then his eyes crack open and flicker to mine, confused, as though he's not sure if he's dreaming or not. My hand trembles against his face. I don't see his arm moving until a hand closes over mine, the one pressed to his cheek. Despite the confusion a second ago, the prince's expression is unreadable now. Those eyes, though, they draw me in like a moth to the flame. I don't realize until now how much I wanted to see them again.

"Just so you know," I say calmly, "I'm very, very angry with you."

Zuko just looks at me. "You don't look very angry," he finally says, sounding raspier than usual.

"Well, I am. I'm only holding back because you look like a dragon's snack pack right now." The prince grimaces and shifts against the rocks; I drop my hand from his face. "I didn't know if you would wake up."

He tries to sit up higher and I not so tenderly push him back down. He groans and scowls at me, but I ignore it and press the damp cloth against his forehead, pushing back the hair that falls in front of his eyes. "I almost left you here," I admit, not really sure why.

"You probably should have," he says, clearly still a little annoyed at me. He sighs, sounding resigned all the sudden. When he speaks again, his voice drops to something quiet and ashamed. "I wouldn't blame you after last night."

"That's not why. Think what you want, but you saved me last night," I say. The cloth warms up almost immediately against his forehead. I take it off and re-rinse it with fresh water from my canteen.

"You should have left," he says again.

"And you should have killed me a long time ago. Now hold still."

He watches me silently as I wipe away the blood and dirt from his face. I avoid the scar area for last, not really sure how I want to deal with that. When I finish everywhere but that area, I hesitate. My eyes flicker to his. "Close your eyes," I say.

He holds my gaze a long moment, too long, making my face feel suddenly too hot. But then, finally, he obeys and shuts his eyes. I run the cloth very gently over his good eye, and then over the scarred side of his face. I expect him to flinch, but he's very still, only the light clenching of his fists on his knees. It must be hard for him to let someone else touch a place that obviously houses a lot of pain. Again I find myself wondering how he got it, but the words never form past my mind.

"You scared me when you wouldn't wake up," I say, wanting to break the silence.

"I thought you were fearless," he says, eyes still pressed shut.

"Don't be smart."

I finish up his face. When I pull the cloth away, it's covered in dirt and blood, but his face looks much better, aside from a few cuts and scrapes. At least he's clean.

Zuko opens his eyes. Sitting this close, with the sunlight shining down, it's the first time I can really appreciate the depths of gold beneath those long lashes. They don't seem human to me, more like the eyes of a predator hiding in the woods, waiting for its prey. My hands lace together across my lap, because suddenly I don't know what else to do with them.

"Why didn't you tell me you were wounded so badly?" I ask.

"Did you use the salve on your burn yet?"

"No. Don't avoid the question."

A muscle in his jaws tightens and he looks away. "Maybe I didn't feel like hearing you nag about it," he says.

I glare at him. "That's not funny. And I _don't_ nag."

Zuko shifts again with a groan. That dark hair of his falls across his eyes, nearly concealing them. He looks down, seemingly very aware all of the sudden that he's not wearing a shirt. He looks at me with a suspicious frown. "Did you do this?" he asks.

"Don't flatter yourself," I say, sounding harsher than I intended to. "It was for medicinal purposes only, I assure you."

He tilts his head back, closing his eyes, blank faced. But then one corner of his mouth curls, like a crack in the ice.

"I have herbs," I say stupidly, for lack of anything else to say. "I mean, the herbs were sent in with the salve and wrappings. You have new clothes, too."

The prince says nothing, going so still that my hand jolts out before I can stop it. "Hey," I say, lightly tapping his face until he blinks at me. "No sleeping until we get your fever down. Tell me about these herbs. Will they help?"

Zuko sighs, sounding exhausted. "I'm trying to regulate my body heat and cool myself down."

I bunch the herbs in a handful and wave them in front of his face. "These were sent in for a reason. Stop being so ungrateful."

"You are uncharacteristically snappy this morning."

"Maybe that's because you failed to tell me just how wounded you were," I snarl, and toss the herbs down on the ground. I pick up a jagged, broken piece of rock and slam it against the herbs; Zuko jumps in reaction, whether at the sound or the intensity in my swing. I slam it down over and over, grinding the herbs until they become fine like spices.

"We're supposed to be allies, Zuko," I go on, a hint of hysteria in my voice. "You can't just leave me in the dark like that."

"Is that what we are?" the prince asks softly. "I thought we were just two birds sharing the same cage."

Maybe he's right. Maybe that's all we really are; two birds, trapped in a cage, longing and fighting for freedom.

"But they are not alone. They have eachother to count on, no matter how long or brief it may be," I say. "I woke up and you _wouldn't_ wake up. What if we had no sponsor gift? What if all your wounds are already infected? What if…"

My voice trails off, my hand halting in the air, gripping the rock. I toss it away, shaking myself, and brush the herbs into the small cup. I fill it with water and hold it out in the direction of the prince without looking at him. When he doesn't so much as move to take it, I force myself to look up.

Zuko stares at me, his mouth parted, almost like he's confused again. A pained sort of expression falls across his face. "Katara, I—"

"Just stop." I set the cup down in front of him and stand up. There's nowhere else for me to go, but I just can't be kneeling in front of him right now, staring into that face. "Drink your remedy or whatever it is. I won't have you dying on me before our Agni Kai."

I turn my back on him and cross my arms. I hate being stuck on this mountain; it makes me feel trapped and all kinds of exposure.

"Katara," Zuko says, but I ignore him.

I start moving over the rocks just to get away from him, putting as much feet away as I can. I thought I wanted to save him, and I do, but the reaction of seeing him awake wasn't what I was expecting. I expected to feel relief and happiness. I didn't expect to feel so angry. And I don't even know why I feel this way.

"_Katara_."

_There's that tone_, I think, cringing, my hands clenching at my sides. No matter how much I feel I know him—in the limited ways that these Games call for—that tone still halts me. Commanding, loud, sharp, cold. The tone of someone who has spent many years ordering people around. The kind of tone that gets your attention, as it does mine, right now.

"What?" I say, not looking over my shoulder completely, but giving him partial attention. "What do you want from me, Zuko?"

"I want to know why you're so…like this," he says, sounding both gentle and impatient, if that is even possible. "You're upset. Or just angry, I guess. Maybe you're just…I don't know," he finishes, sounding frustrated.

A heartbeat goes by and then I hear a bit of groaning and hissing, rocks sliding. When I allow myself a backward glance, the prince is now in a standing position, slouched against the rocks. The effort to be on his feet shows on his face, though he tries to cover it.

He can't support himself entirely though, and moves his hands behind him, bracing himself against the rock. Shirtless, scarred and weak, but never wavering, he gives off the impression of coiled power, an almost contained violence that, if released, can do some serious damage. He still looks strong, even at his weakest.

I can't decide if this image makes me hate him or admire him more—or if this is the look of a prince or a warrior. I suppose it's possible to be both.

Zuko's gaze is hard, so hard I can't look away. "I don't understand you at all. Sometimes I think I do, but then you get like this and I don't know. I don't know what you want me to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

"Then what's your problem?" he says angrily. Loud, frustrated.

"I don't want to watch you die!" I shout, the words tumbling out without warning. I almost wish I can take them back.

Zuko stills all over, entirely. His face slacks, the emotion running off it like paint spilling down a canvas. The sun glints off his chest, shiny from the salve. I see a few places I've missed, a couple of cuts that still need salve.

"I _won't_ watch you die," I correct myself.

Before I can stop myself, I'm standing in front of Zuko again. Without looking at him, I scoop up the jar and start dabbing on more of the salve, touching the places I missed. If it burns or hurts, he doesn't show it. The only sign of discomfort is a little flexing in his abs. I only know this because I'm staring right at them, refusing to look at his face. I know earlier I wished he was awake, but now I find myself thinking just the opposite. He doesn't look at me, but he doesn't need to. I can almost tell what he's thinking just by the way he's holding himself, by the set of his shoulders and the stillness.

_There can only be one victor._

"The others must be injured and healing, otherwise the Elites would probably have manipulated the arena by now," I say, without looking up. "We can't stay up here forever. Once you're feeling up to it, we'll hike down the mountain and try to find the others. I think we should go for Suki first, and save your sister and Ty Lee for last. Then…then we can have our Agni Kai."

I try to sound light, but my traitor hand trembles against his chest—Zuko catches it and gives it a squeeze.

"Azula is _my_ fight," he says, leaving no room to argue. "My battle alone."

"You don't trust me?" Hurt and fury comes out in my voice.

Still clutching my hand, he catches a finger under my chin and tilts my head back, forcing me to look at him. Suddenly very much aware of the Watchers, of the entire world, of how close we're standing, I want to pull away, but those gold eyes pin me where I am.

"I trust you entirely," he says, "but I won't watch _you_ die, either."

I can't decide if I feel flattered or insulted, and the prince gives me no time to decide. He spins me around and lifts my thick, curly hair off my neck.

"Give me the salve," he orders, holding out a hand. "And hold still."

I set it in his palm silently. He starts applying it onto my burn and my shoulders immediately tense. The salve stings and chills; an odd mix of fire and ice. It's hard to decide if it's making the burn worse or helping, but when Zuko's fingers start to warm up—Firebending technique, I'm guessing—my knees almost buckle.

"Your arms need some, too," he says. "They're covered in cuts."

_Thank you_, I want to say, but the words never come. My mind is already thinking about tomorrow, about what's to come to the both of us.

There can only be one victor.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thank you for reading! I just want to say firstly that all your reviews mean so much. I had no idea this story would be such a hit. You guys are awesome. :D So awesome that here is a snippet of the final chapter:

_"I'm so sorry," someone whispers. Then everything goes black._

**Review Responses:**

**Princess of Your Doom95: "Or like, what would happen if it was just them and they refused to fight? What would happen? Would the Elites try to step in or would the Games just continue?"** - I suppose if this happens, you'll have to wait and see. :D

**Singer24: "I happened to have read your story Eclipse first and then read this...you are talented. Both amazing stories!"** - Aw thank you so much! You're very kind. :D I want to finish Eclipse eventually, but this story has sort of overtaken my creative juices. :P

**Kezz dog: "When I read that you are doing a mulan spin off I nearly cried with excitement!"** - I'm really excited about it, too! Zuko in The Black Games is kind of a mix of seasons 1-3 in the show, while Dark Side of the Moon will feature more of season 1 Zuko. I'm excited to write him all angsty and angry, haha.

**ZukoXKatara: "Will Katara learn how to heal/well yue's neckless ever come into play?"** - You'll have to wait and see!

**Plurpy: "I also love that you haven't rushed their relationship, no one in this situation would enter a relationship quickly. Besides that, I hope that Katara grows more in her powers beacuse I really want to see a fight between her and Azula where the they are both truly masters."** - Thank you! Yeah, that's why Zuko and Katara's relationship in this isn't a conventional one. It's one that's clearly there, but neither seem to acknowledge or examine too closely. I prefer this type of relationship in a story, one where we can see without the characters constantly thinking about it. Being shown, not told. Katara doesn't have to say "I care about Zuko so much" but instead she shows that care by healing his wounds. Stuff like that. :D

As for Azula and Katara stand off, well, Katara isn't going to become a master by the end of the games. That just can't happen, since becoming a master takes years. Azula is one, but that doesn't mean Katara can't find a way to beat her. ;) Katara outsmarted Azula in the series, when Azula was clearly the better fighter, so it's always possible that could happen again.

**CrazyDslyexicNerd: "Do you think maybe they might decide to become nice? Because dragons are intelligent!"** - Sharks are intelligent and they aren't very nice, lol! As for the dragons becoming nice, you'll have to wait and see. ;) You have to consider if this dragon has been raised in captivity, trained to act a certain way, or if it's a wild dragon. Either way, the Capital brought it in.

**poprocx: "i was wondering if we could see suki have kinda a moment with katara where she shows that she feels bad about katara loosing sokka."** - Well, that would depend on if Suki feels bad about it, which I doubt she does. In this story, Suki hasn't made any personal connections with anyone. It's not that she's heartless; she wants to win. She definitely wouldn't spare Katara's life because of Sokka, though. :P

**janedoe401: "What are you doing to us? I feel like twisting myself into a rope!"-** Lol don't do that! My goal for this story was for everyone to feel emotional and really care about the characters. Especially Zuko and Katara, since they're the main characters. I was really pleased from a writer's standpoint with how many people were heartbroken over Sokka's death. It means I did my job and you all can relate to Katara and how she felt. I could kill off a bunch of characters but if they don't mean anything to Katara, they probably won't mean as much to you, either. But I can't just say these characters mean a lot to Katara, either; I have to show it. Goes back to the "show don't tell" mantra of writing. :D

There is also something very emotional about not being able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, I think. As it is, it's very hard to see how this story might have a happy ending. Makes us feel even more tormented. But alas, I won't tell you how this ends, whether it's happy or bittersweet or sad. :P You just have to wait! Mwaha.


	31. Deception of Reality

**A/N:** There seems to be some confusion about the snippet I gave last chapter. It's a snippet from the LAST chapter of this story, but THIS chapter is not the last one. ;) I'm going to estimate about..three more. :D I will warn you when it's the last one. It's called Victor, fyi, and will be in the POV of the actual victor. Anyway, enjoy!

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><p>"A place shaped like a heart is full of thorns and roses." - <em>Yeats<em>

**Chapter 29 - Deception of Reality**

There are both positive and negative aspects of being stuck on top of a mountain. The negative is that _you are stuck on top of a mountain_. There is only one way to go, and that's down, over enormous boulders and slippery bits of loose, jagged rocks. Not an easy task. The positive side is that being on a mountain means you're up high; able to see things you can't see from the ground. From this height, I'm able to catch a glimpse of a small hot spring just down the other side of the mountain. That alone is my motivation to scale down over the traitorous rocks. That, and my stomach won't stop growling from hunger to the point where it's almost embarrassing.

While my wounds and aches are almost completely healed from the salve, Zuko moves at a slower than usual and stiff pace. I keep glancing over my shoulder every few seconds, making sure he's still behind me. I try to do it inconspicuously, but he still catches me. He glares every time in response. A couple of times he slips on the rocks and I almost go down with him. Somehow I manage to balance us, earning a grumble and an even darker glare from the prince—because of course he didn't need my help—and we keep going.

We move silently, and I wonder if Zuko is listening to the sounds around him as hard as I am. I can't be sure, but I feel like Azula and Ty Lee will want a public display. The princess seems too proud—especially at this point in the Games—to attack us with our back's turned. She'll want a grand, extravagant event. She'll want the world to watch Zuko fall. I wonder, even now, if she's simply been biding her time, using all her followers to take out all the tributes until Zuko is the only one left. I suppose that means I'm next on her list and should be worried, but maybe they'll go for Suki first. Suki is the one I have to worry about right now, more so than the princess. Suki will attack silently, without warning, and probably when we least expect it. She won't care about a public display.

At the end of a day of climbing, the prince and I stop to sleep in an alcove of rocks. It's cold and rough, but it's a decent hideaway from the arena. Zuko is a little pale from the climb so I offer to let him sleep first. This time he doesn't protest or glare at me.

The alcove has barely enough room for the both of us. Zuko stays sitting up, leaning against one of the walls with his arms crossed over his chest. It doesn't look very comfortable but I suppose he's too tired to care. I sit at the edge of the alcove with Zuko's swords and a half canteen of water. We spent the entire day descending the mountain so our mouths were completely dry. When we reach the hot spring, I can fill it back up then.

A package arrives the next day around midday. Another sponsor's gift. This time it's a luxurious basket of food. My mouth immediately starts to water at the salty and rich smells. The only thing we've eaten over the past couple days is bark from the trees and dried leechi nuts we've found on the rocks. Even with Zuko injured, we would have probably made it down the mountain by now if we weren't so hungry and lacking energy.

Zuko explains most of our food since I've never seen it before: crab puffs, with meaty crab chopped up and stuffed into a doughy pastry. A whole roasted duck rubbed with some sort of spicy and sweet sauce. Two puffy, glazed pao buns. A small container of ocean kumquats. Four whole mangos. And two tiny bottles, one filled with salt, another with pepper.

Personally, I think the seasoning is going a little far.

We decide to save the buns and mangos, since they'll hold up just fine in my satchel. We both eat a crab puff—it's salty and sweet, the fresh taste of the sea from the crab that I've missed so much—and carve up the duck. We save most of the meat, and I wrap it in the cloth the food came in and place it in my satchel. Zuko eyes the kumquats with disdain.

"You have to try it," I say, sucking my fingers after digging into the container. "They're full of iron and protein."

"They look disgusting," he says, making a face, the kind Sokka used to make when my dad made him eat vegetables as a boy. "They're from the Fire Provinces and I've managed to avoid eating them my entire life."

I suppose he's right. They're not the most attractive of foods. A small, round, greenish vegetable that takes on the consistency of sea prunes. They almost have a similar taste, though kumquats aren't quite as sweet. They're a little bitter and bland, and would taste much better cooked in a flavorful sauce, but who am I to complain?

"Eat it," I urge, and hand him the container. "You'll feel better after you do."

Zuko looks hesitantly over the rim of the container, like he's debating a hundred foot jump off a cliff, and finally digs out a kumquat. He plops it into his mouth, barely chews, and then swallows it. The look on his face makes me burst out laughing.

"That's horrible!" he cries. "How can you eat this stuff?"

"Oh, stop complaining." I roll my eyes at him. "Just because you're a rich, Capital boy doesn't mean you can't be grateful. Some people don't even _have_ food."

He mumbles something about kumquats not being food but I ignore him. If he wants to pass on a good iron and protein source, then fine. That means more for me. He won't admit his graciousness anyway, and any sponsor who sends him gifts probably knows this. The prince of the Capital doesn't need to thank anyone, I suppose, with servants waiting on his hand and foot every day. Before these Games, I wonder if he's ever had to fix any of his meals. I'm sure he's never had to hunt for them, at least. Between the pair of us, I'm definitely the better hunter. Watching him carve the duck was amusing until I realized he was about to butcher the meat all off completely and we'd be left with nothing. At that point I jumped in and suggested he make a fire.

I nibble on the last bit of duck, savoring the flavor and picking out pieces in my teeth. Zuko finishes his ration before me and puts out the fire. We don't need the smoke to give away our location. He shrugs off his shirt to examine his chest and arm. While the cuts are healing, the skin is still a little swollen and puffy.

"You should add some more salve," I suggest. "We have plenty."

"I'm fine," the prince says predictably, and I predictably ignore him and rummage through the satchel to find the salve. I hold it out wordlessly. When all he does is stare at me, I move over to him and thrust it into his chest. He grimaces, but takes it.

"I sort of pegged you as someone with high self-preservation," I say, "but you're trying awfully hard to die."

He scowls at me, for what feels like the hundredth time since we've set down the mountain. "Just because you healed me doesn't mean that's an invitation to mother me," he says. "I'm not going to die from some cuts and gashes."

_If I healed you, you wouldn't still be hurting. If I could heal, Sokka would still be alive._

"No," I say, "but those cuts and gashes might slow you down against your sister. And _then_ you might die."

He clamps his jaw in frustration and starts lathering on the salve without another word. While he's busy doing that, I decide to do something with my tangle of a mess hair. I've not been able to take a single bath since I've been in this arena. The closest I've come to is rinsing my hair and body with some of the water I've pulled from plants. I haven't dared strip to my underclothes, though, in case of a sudden attack. And okay, maybe I was a little self-conscious of all the Watchers. Not so much now. I feel too disgusting to care and I know I must look disgusting. At least once we reach the hot spring I'll be able to soak in the water.

I weave my tangled hair through my fingers to make a single braid. My stylists are probably horrorstruck at my attempts. Since my hair is rattier than usual, the braid is a bit lumpy and fly-aways are poking out, but at least it's out of my face. Once I finish, I rip off a piece of cloth from the bottom of my shirt and use it to tie off the braid.

Looking down at myself I realize I can really, _really_ go for a new set of clothes. These are tattered and dirty, and a sleeve is even missing. I appreciate the food but would a new set of robes kill a sponsor of mine? _Come on, Pakku, do something here! Is this what a victor should look like?_

I can almost hear him laughing in my head—which means I'm probably going crazy, just like everyone says of the victors who survive, just like they say back in Province 9 of Hama. A crazy old woman. Will that be me, if I win, years down the road?

I hope not.

When Zuko is finished with the salve, I pack up the rest of our things and we set off down the mountain in silence. The prince keeps out his swords and takes the lead, since I've sort of lost the direction of the spring. We're not high enough anymore to see the flags or the spring or virtually anything that isn't eye level or lower.

We walk for hours, occasionally commenting on certain sounds or animals we've spotted. The silence is oddly comforting, and somehow it makes me feel like I'm back in Province 9, hunting with my brother. Not that Zuko could ever replace Sokka—no one can—but it's a similar sort of feeling: comfort. I know what Sokka sounds like when he moves, the way he breaths. I can feel him without seeing him. I can predict his every step and we had this weird thing where we could communicate without really talking. It's what made us such good partners.

It's something that, when he died, I thought I'd never experience ever again with another person.

I wouldn't say I feel exactly the _same_ way with Zuko, but it's familiar and similar. He's not as predictable as Sokka, and he still manages to catch me by surprise sometimes, but I'm starting to get him. The way he moves, the sounds he makes—when he makes them, that is, because usually he's pretty quiet—when he's going to stop, when he wants to keep going.

It's a safety sort of feeling. I don't feel like I should rely on Zuko to save my life—I can handle myself—but I feel like I can walk in front of him without worrying about getting a knife in my back. If someone is going to come at me from behind, it's not going to be him, and he'd probably see it coming, and stop it before it happens. I know I can trust him. I know I need him to win these Games. But I also know he has to die in order for me to win.

A terrible, tragic paradox, isn't it? A dark tunnel without the glimmer of light at the end. Maybe I need to find another path, instead of heading into nothing. But I don't know where else I can go.

* * *

><p>The sun is nearly set by the time my feet hit the ground and true to Zuko's sense of direction, we make it to the hot spring. It's such a gratifying feeling that all I want to do is roll around in the dirt, but I don't think what sponsors I have left would find that very appealing. Instead I push past several tall, leafy trees to stand at the edge of the hot spring. It's barely large enough to hold two or three people, set into rough, greyish rocks. The warm water bubbles pop against the steaming surface. I don't know if this is created by the Elites or not, but it hardly matters. What matters is that I smell and am in dire need of a bath. I had a bar of soap at the start of the Games, but it fell out of my satchel at some point. Soaking is still better than nothing.<p>

I start to take off my tunic when suddenly I remember I'm not alone. Glancing over my shoulder, I spot the prince. He has a sword out, chiseling away at the bark of a tree. Curious enough to prolong my bath, I walk over to him.

"What are you doing?" Thin slabs of light wood hit the ground; the prince bends down to pick them up.

"Do you plan on bathing without soap?"

When I open my mouth to reply, he practically shoves the wood into my arms so abruptly that I nearly drop them.

"What are you doing?" I splutter at him, again, this time a bit more frustration coloring my voice.

He says nothing and moves into the woods, away from the hot spring. I glance back and forth—to stay by the wonderful, luxurious hot spring or chase after this irritating prince?

With a groan, and some deliberation, I dive into the woods after him, still holding on to the wood.

"Do you plan on making soap?" I mean it as a joke, but when the prince says nothing, I realize I'm right. "How do you plan on doing that?" I ask, incredulous.

"We can use the fat from the duck and we'll need the salt," he says. "And purified water, which you can do."

I stare at him. This, coming from the _prince_ of the Capital?

"What?" He runs a hand through his hair, looking disheveled and maybe even a little embarrassed. "Uncle told me about the time he didn't have any soap and—never mind. He showed me how to make it. Do you want it or not?" he snaps at me.

_Why are you yelling at me?_ I want to say. "Your uncle," I say instead. "That's your mentor, right?"

Zuko nods and starts looking at the trees, examining them, like he's looking for a specific one. He apparently finds it and starts chiseling away again "He probably asked the sponsor to add the salt to the gift basket for this reason."

"You seem confident the gift came from one of _your_ sponsors," I say, a little haughtily. "Maybe mine just thought the duck needed some seasoning."

The prince says nothing, and that only fuels my irritation because I know that means he doesn't believe me. I drop the wood in indignation and my hands fly to my hips. "You are awfully arrogant," I say. "In fact, I wish I hadn't even shared _my_ crab puffs with you. Next time you can find your own."

"You didn't even know what they were," he says, without looking up, still sawing at the bark with a sword. "A sponsor of yours would have sent in food familiar to _you_. Like—" he pauses, looks up, and then shrugs, going back to sawing "—like sea slugs or whatever you peasants eat back at Province 9."

"We don't eat _sea slugs_!" I cry furiously. The casual way he says peasants—not like an insult, but a fact of life—just makes me even angrier. "And stop calling my people peasants! We have a princess too, you know."

"It's not the same thing."

"What? We don't willingly send our royalty into a death arena because we actually care about ours?"

The prince completely stiffens, and suddenly I'm very away of the sword brandished in his hand, and the other on his back. Almost immediately I regret opening my mouth. Not because of the words themselves, but because of the delivery in which I say them. Surely the prince must know it's not okay for your father, for any reason, to willingly throw you into a death arena. It's a gray area we haven't really talked about, but it's been in the back of my mind for days now. I guess the words had to finally spill out. I only wish I had voiced them a little more tactfully. And maybe a little less harsh.

I don't apologize, because I know he doesn't want to hear it. Instead I say, "Just tell me what to do for this soap."

* * *

><p>Zuko does most of the work. He boils a mixture of purified water with white ash—the grindings of the wood he carved—to make lye water. The water is so hot it almost burns my hands when I bend it into the cup we saved from our first package. It has to sit for a couple of hours. It's nightfall by the time it's finally ready for the duck fat to be added and we use the silver light from the moon to see. The prince brings this mixture back to a boil, and then adds salt so it'll harden. I search the area for something that smells nice, because really, its soap and soap should smell pleasant. I manage to find some sandalwood and place it into the cup. After another hour it's ready to use.<p>

The prince hits the back of the cup until the soap falls out, and then he moves to the hot spring. I decide not to argue and take watch. It's his idea, and he's clearly still mad at me—the whole soap making process was done in virtual silence—so he can go first and sulk all he wants. The hot water probably feels good on all his aches.

I eat a mango and stare up at the stars. I'm close enough to hear the prince when he moves in the water, but far enough away to give him privacy. I think of my dad, suddenly, and an empty, hollowness eats its way out of me. If I somehow make it out of here, is he going to hate me because I couldn't save Sokka?

My mind must have drifted even further away because I don't hear Zuko approach. I don't even realize he's here, actually, until droplets of water splash my face. The prince hovers over me, shirtless, wearing only his boots and pants. His dark hair clings to his face, soaked with water. He drops the soap onto my stomach.

I suppose that's my invitation for it being my turn.

The water is hotter than I expect, and I have to inch my way into it. I'm not used to bathing in such hot water. Usually the Guards only warm the water a little back at home. Just because they can, I suppose, and enjoy making us suffer. Stuck in these Games, though, it's almost a treat to bath in water I can barely afford back at home. My dad would enjoy this.

I keep my underclothes on since I can bend the water away to dry myself. The soap smells good—thanks to me—and I lather it all over my body and in my hair. I'll have to re-braid it when I finish. I dunk my face under the water, completely submerging myself. The silence is comforting, but it's too hot to stay under long. Nothing pleasant ever lasts long, anyway.

Dinner is silent, as expected. We eat a little more duck and Zuko eats a mango. He must have gone through my satchel while I bathed, though, because he's twirling his crown in his fingers, staring at it with such intensity I can see the fire illuminating in his eyes even in the darkness.

"Do you think you'll beat her?" I say, speaking for the first time in hours. My voice cracks a little and I clear my throat. "Azula, I mean."

For a horrifying moment I fear he's going to keep ignoring me, but then he says, "What I think doesn't really matter." His voice is low and grave. "All that matters is whether or not I win."

"Right." A haughty laugh escapes me before I can stop it. And just like that, the cold reality sinks in and all those hours of silence between us have formed a tall, impenetrable wall. I'm not sure it can even fall. "Because winning for the sake of living isn't enough. I keep forgetting this is just a game to you. Just another trophy to add to your most likely already-enormous-display of success."

Zuko's eyes flash to mine, pinning me to where I sit. His knuckles are white from gripping the crown too tightly. Garbed in his new crimson and gold tunic, a face of murder and coldness, he's very much the image of the ideal prince of the Capital. I don't know why, but ever since we started down the mountain, he's been very moody and angry. I suppose he's always been like this; I've just failed to notice whenever we're running for our lives or fighting for it.

"Don't," he snarls. Again, I'm shocked by his sudden flare up and mood swings, and again, I'm reminded of Azula. "You don't know anything about my life. I wouldn't expect you to understand my duty—my destiny."

Haven't we had this conversation, or a variation of it, before? Have we gotten anywhere these past few weeks? Or is that the purpose of these Games, to keep you running and running in circles until there's nowhere else to go?

"I don't even think _you_ understand," I say, my voice rising a little. "Who are you even fighting for, Zuko?"

"I am the prince of the Capital," he grounds out. "And I will fight for them until the day I die."

"That's probably in about twenty four hours."

"If that's my destiny, so be it," he says coldly.

I hold his gaze for what feels like a long time, wishing somehow his expression will falter. Because if it does, than maybe he doesn't really believe that. And maybe he doesn't really believe in the Capital. Then, at least, I can find some hope.

But his expression doesn't even crack. His mouth and eyes are set in stone.

I look away from his face and stare straight ahead, catching the moonlight filtering in through the trees. I hadn't really noticed earlier, but if I didn't know where I was, I'd say the scenery from the arena paints a beautiful picture. But I know better, and no matter how beautiful it might look, it doesn't change what it is. It's nothing more than a cruel deception of reality.

Unable to look away from the moon's light, the silver sheen to the trees, I hear my voice, as if from a distance, "Did you know that every year we lose more and more children and elders to illness? They can't afford remedies. Some families can barely afford more than a meal a day. Do you know why?" I mean it as a rhetorical question, but pause anyway. Zuko is unsurprisingly silent.

"It's because we're taxed constantly, and those taxes go to the Capital. To you," I go on. "More and more families are ripped and torn apart so you can live in luxury. So you don't have to treasure kumquats like it's something precious. People are suffering and dying, Zuko, and it isn't a game to them."

A heavy silence settles over us. Speaking ill of the Capital isn't what I should be doing, out here in the open, especially, where Elites can be hidden in in the trees with Watchers. I know Pakku is probably slamming his head against the wall because of it, but if I'm going to going to go any further into these Games with Zuko, continue down this wretched path, I have to say this. I can't have him be my deception of reality.

"You know all of this, and you know it's wrong." I finally look at him, searching his face. "Why don't you say something?"

"Careful," says Zuko softly, a warning in his voice. He seems to have calmed down a little, no longer glaring or snarling at me, an almost soft look to his eyes now. Hesitant, cautious.

"Why not stand up to the Capital if you know it's wrong?" I say quietly, a hush in the breeze.

"He is my father and my Fire Lord." And just like that, I'm staring into the hard face of the Capital's prince again. That voice, that expression, no longer soft. It's like meeting him for the first time all over again. "It's my duty to obey his commands. My loyalty is to him. No matter how I feel about anything. Or anyone," he says, very clearly, so I cannot possibly twist his words to mean anything other than face value.

Not a single thing on his face contradicts his words, as hard as I search for it. And then, suddenly I understand what he means but can't say: no matter how I wish things were different, they aren't, and there's nothing to be done about it. You can't change the rules of the game you can't control.

I think back to the other night. _I don't want to watch you die, either, _he had said.I didn't quite know what to think about it, but thinking about it now, I he should have said: _I don't want to watch you die, either, but I will, because what I want and how I feel does not matter._

I know I should probably feel angry or betrayed or deceived, but all I feel is disappointed.

"Then you are not the kind of prince I thought you were," I say, without looking away from him this time, my gaze unwavering. "A real prince—one with honor, with courage—would have stopped what he knew to be wrong, no matter who was ordering it."

"You should save your breath," a voice says suddenly, from somewhere above. "You're going to need it when you fight me."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** This chapter was really interesting because so far Katara has looked at who Zuko is as an ally and teammate, and now she's finally starting to look at who he is as a person: his morals, his beliefs, etc. She hasn't really cared much, until now. On another note, I just wanted to let you all know I've seen the first draft of the trailer for Insurgent and OMG is it badass! I can't wait until it's complete and I can show you all. It's really, really looking awesome so far. :D Anyway, prepare for some lengthy review responses. I tend to ramble...lol.

Review Responses:

**BG-13: "Also...did you come up with the title of that one chapter from Taylor Swifts song for the movie. "Safe and Sound"?"** - I did! I think I included the lyrics at the top of the chapter as well. :D

**Tiny Cherie: "What did Jet know from seeing how Katara looked at Zuko?"** - Never too late to ask questions! :D Jet knew that Katara trusted Zuko and in his eyes, that's about as bad as it gets. Jet could have cared less if he thought Katara thought Zuko was attractive or anything related to romance. Jealousy was not the problem. But trust, that's a problem. If Jet's ally trusts his enemy, where does that leave Jet? He no longer felt his alliance was strong and he felt decieved. And if Katara is on Zuko's side, that means Sokka is, too, and that's 3 against 1. That's why he broke the alliance. Which he would have done eventually, anyway. :P

**"What does the audiences think whenever they see how Sokka and Katara interact (or how Zuko and Katara interact in that matter...like when Zuko got poisoned)? Do they feel torn like us readers about the fact that there's going to be only one victor?"** - It sort of varies all around the world. Some provinces find it motivating and touching and heartbreaking, the bond between Katara and Sokka; while others think they were milking it for the fame. The Capital probably varies the most because naturally, they want to "believe" whatever Ozai believes. But Ozai remains very mutual throughout the games and doesn't watch it in front of the public.

Remember Zuko has his scar, and has a story that goes with it, so part of the Capital will continue to see him as a traitor, especially for not creating an alliance with the other Fire tributes. Some call him a traitor for fighting against those Fire tributes in the beginning. Others admire him for his heroic acts and for NOT creating an alliance with them. (Province 9 obviously loves him and is probably very torn between him and Katara) Others are too scared of Azula and the Capital to root for anyone but her. So yeah, it varies. :D

**Rewritinglife: "are you updating once a week or whenever you feel like it?"** - I sort of update whenever I finish writing the next chapter, which typically happens within a week, haha. So if more than a week goes by, that's probably because I'm just busy or struggling with the chapter. My usual timing for updates was twice a month, but you guys make me want to finish this. :D

**poprocx: "have you taken writing classes?"** - I took two in college but they weren't for creative writing. More like essays..which was really not fun lol. But writing has always been my strongest subject since I was little. I'd love to write a book of my own someday!

**"do we see toph any more or is she really dead?"** - You will find out if Toph is alive or dead in Insurgent. :D

**zutara luverf: "when are zukp and Katara kiss?"** - When the moment is right. ;) Sounds cheesy, but it's true. No Katniss/Peeta bullshit kiss that's only because the audience is watching. (That annoyed me to no end)

**AnnaAza: "It isn't an "I love you;" I wouldn't expect that from him, espeicly in this fic. But it means so much to have complete trust from him and for him to have quiet respect for her, and it means a lot that Katara could have easily fled and left him to die, but she keeps going back to heal him, even neglecting her own wounds."** - So glad you feel this way because it's totally what I'm going for. I really want to show how they feel rather than say it. Actions speak louder than words, I've always thought. :D As for being optimistic..oh gosh, I bet you feel worse now, haha. I've felt really torn writing this because I understand what Zuko is saying and I understand what Katara is saying. It's really, really just an awful position to be in. I think the ending will surprise people, but at the same time, it won't.

**InItToWinIt: "I hope you know that I am now holding this story at par with Love Thy Enemy and His Majesty Prefers Blue."** - Now THAT is a high compliment! Thank you so much! I have not read all of His Majesty Prefers Blue but Love Thy Enemy is one of my absolute favorites.

**Heat In Freezing: "I am so excited at the prospect of a Mulan story, however I hope it doesn't delay the sequel to this story!"** - I am going to force myself not to post Dark Side of the Moon until I have at least 5-10 chapters written, and that might take a few months. Once you post a story, you feel obligated to update, and I don't want to have to worry about updating that AND Insurgent, both of which will require a lot of battles/fighting. (And those are toughest for me to write) Eclipse has suffered because I did this, posted The Black Games too soon. I do apologize Eclipse readers! I will finish it eventually, I hope!

I know Insurgent requires a lot of planning and honestly, I probably won't post chapter one until about a month after I finish this just so I can plan. *sighs*

**Lannna: "I especially love how you've developed Katara's and Zuko's relationship to the point where they don't have to outright say what they feel for each other for the reader to be aware of their feelings but its in the little gestures they do for one another that truly shows the depth of how much they care for one another."** - Thank you very much! I mention this in AnnaAza's reply, but I'm so glad what I wanted to portray is coming across in the chapters. Gestures mean so much and are often overlooked by fancy words. Zuko isn't a fancy word guy anyway. :P In the actual series, one of my favorite moments was when Katara lost control bloodbending and went all crazy in The Southern Raiders and Zuko said nothing, but was a silent companion at her side. To me that spoke more than anything he could have said to her.

**SarahE7191: "I know it's kind of sick and twisted but I'm really just ready for Katara and Zuko to make out ; though at the same time I know one will have to kill the other (or watch the other die.)"** - Haha it's that awful paradox! If they kiss, then it's almost worse because you have to suffer by watching one die, or both, knowing they can't have what they want. If they don't kiss, you have to live with the whole "what could have been" thing. Again, an awful paradox.

**polarbearoncrack: "I'd noticed that you didn't include the trackers, which would explain how Toph could get away with making tunnels without detection."** - Nope, no trackers! I think that's too advanced and well, the arena is kind of in the middle of no where. Even if someone escaped, which would be impossible by land or air, the Capital assumes they'd have no where to go. And they'd sort of be wanted..and a fugitive, lol. And thanks for the Mulan-ATLA piece of art! I loved it!

**Aaliyah92: " I'm curious though, will we be seeing the reactions of people at home at all?"** - Perhaps as a bonus. Since this story has been told entirely from Katara's point of view, it would be weird to switch to someone else's. Unless Katara is dead, well, then that's different. But you'll see some of the reactions from those at home in Insurgent and possibly at the end of this story. Lu Ten, for instance, has some scenes with the victor in the last chapter. :D

**Patmaheiny: "I get annoyed when most Zutara stories follow the EXACT SAME STORYLINE. They hate each other... they learn to love each other... then they go completely OOC and never think of anything other than their love for each other. It's almost sickening."** - Haha I know what you mean. One of the biggest issues with that for me is that it takes away what I love about their relationship. They make such a good team. How kickass were they in The Southern Raiders? :P But they also share really strong relationships with other characters, like Aang, Toph, Sokka, etc. Taking all that away sort of deflates the potential of what they can be..which is epic. :D

**"It's so conflicting for me as a reader; as the writer, you must've struggled with that quite a bit."** - Very. I think I mention this in another response, too, about feeling conflicted. Here's the thing. Have you ever noticed in most movies and books, the couple doesn't get together until the very END? That's because the build up is part of the story and journey. But what happens after? That's when it's really hard to write. If Zuko and Katara went into these games together, as a couple, I don't know what I'd do, lol. Because it sort of takes away some of that character building and even some of the challenges. Most readers sit on the edge of their chair waiting for that kiss or that profession of love. But afterwards it's like the end of the fireworks show when you pack up and go home. You'd lose interest if Katara and Zuko were together early on. You might not think so, but it's true! lol

So on one hand, of course I'd love Katara and Zuko to kiss and be together right now. But on the other, from a realistic standpoint I know that just can't happen and from a writer's standpoint I know that would only make my job 100x harder. Every couple in a story has to face challenges. There has to be something that keeps them apart or struggling or some form of tension. All sunshine and roses just isn't fun or make for a good story.

**"for all I know, the Zutara portions were the easiest parts for you to write."** - The emotional scenes are the easiest for me to write, actually. Like anything where strong feelings are involved whether it's sadness or anger. Anger especially, lol. Verbal fighting and tension is much easier for me to write than physical fighting.


	32. Silent Night

**A/N**: Get ready for a long one, lol. This was emotionally harder to write than I expected. *sighs*

* * *

><p>"Silent night, holy night<p>

All is calm, all is bright

Round your Virgin Mother and Child

Holy Infant so tender and mild

Sleep in heavenly peace." - _Silent Night _

**Chapter 30 - Silent Night**

Before I can even look upward to the voice, there's an explosion of smoke, and my vision is tainted the color of a foggy midnight. The smoke burns my eyes and throat almost instantly. It's like I'm choking from all directions and I can't stop coughing. I can't even gather my senses properly, and then I hear a sharp, whooshing sort of sound, one that I've heard thousands of times before, followed by another _whoosh_, but my mind is working too slowly. Before I can put two and two together, from somewhere in the darkness I hear Zuko shouts out in fury and pain.

_No_, I try to say, almost sluggishly, coughing through the black smoke, but there's another explosion, this time more powerful, with enough force to send me flying backwards. My back slams into something hard—I think it's probably a tree—and the impact knocks the breath right out of me. The sound of the explosions is so loud it leaves my ears ringing, my head dizzy.

Ears ringing, head pounding, eyes burning, surrounded by darkness—I'm completely disoriented.

A body slams into me from above. I'm thrown flat onto my back, and hard knees pin my shoulders to the ground so I can't move. My canteen is stripped off my body; I hear it hit and roll across the ground. A hand flies out and strikes me across the face, twice, so hard and so fast, that one second I'm seeing darkness and another I'm seeing stars.

My mind actually blanks completely. _What is going on?_

"How have you lasted this long, Province Nine?" a voice taunts. "I suppose I underestimated your ability of self-preservation."

Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize this voice belongs to Suki, and she's the one straddling me, probably about two seconds away from killing me. I wish I can make out her face but stars are still dancing behind my eyes and the smoke is clouding my lungs.

"Zuko," I try to say, but Suki reaches down and grasps my throat, very effectively cutting off my voice. She laughs and it echoes painfully in my still ringing ears.

"Oh, the prince is knocked out. When he finally comes around, he'll be too preoccupied digging those tainted arrows out of his hands to worry about you," she says. "It won't kill him, but viper-bat venom burns like fire. It'll bring him to his senses before long. By which time _you_, Province Nine, will be dead."

I can barely breathe from the hand still cutting off my air, from the smoke, and instinct has me wanting to do anything but lie here suffocating. But my arms can't move, can't budge the sturdy knees still pressing down on them. It's like drowning without the water.

_Focus, Katara. Focus, _I can almost hear Sokka saying. _What can you see? Open your eyes!_

I blink repeatedly, each one sending a new wave of burning pain through me, until the stars go away, and Suki's cold eyes come into focus, shining against the swirling darkness. She's dressed in all black, blending into the night, and a matching cloth covers her nose and mouth.

"I thought it'd be _days_ before I'd find you but you two were stupid enough to send up all that damn smoke. I knew the princess wouldn't be here. She's busy following my false trail." I don't have to see Suki's full face to know she's grinning. Pride seeps out in her voice and shines in her steely grey eyes. "But don't worry. After I finish off you two, she's next."

Suki's talking distracts her enough that I manage to wiggle a hand free. I reach across the ground, stretching my fingertips, trying to pull the water out of my canteen by feeling for it. But suddenly Suki reaches down and grasps my struggling hand, twisting my fingers until I hear one snap and break. The terrible sound of breaking bones isn't nearly as awful as how it feels and this time I can't help but cry out. The pain is instant and sharp, bringing tears to my eyes.

Suki releases my throat just long enough to press something sharp and uncharacteristically sticky and warm against it. I struggle and thrash against her weight, ignoring the pain of my broken finger—or fingers, however many she broke—trying to free myself, but she's strong, locked on to me too tight. The smoke is starting to fade a little—or my eyes are adjusting, even though they're still burning—but I see her lift the knife—the tip is dipped in something, an inky black—and in a flash of silver, it slices across my left cheek. It burns immediately, as though she had used fire, and a sticky, warm substance spills down like tainted tears, filling my mouth with the salty, rusty taste of my own blood.

Even through the haze of pain, I'm dimly aware that Suki never draws out her fights. She's usually quick and lethal, in and out before you notice she's even been there. Why not hurry and kill me and then kill Zuko before he rouses? But, why bother with the venomous arrows? Why break my fingers and cut me?

_Because now she has the upper hand_, I hear Sokka say. _The numbers are in her favor. She's going to draw it out as long as she can. First you, and then Zuko._

Of course. It all makes sense, now. She thinks she can beat each of us, one on one, so she's going to kill us one by one. The first time she attacked, she attacked at night, when we were all vulnerable, but she only killed one. She went for Longshot. Another time she challenged Sokka to a fight. But never more than one. She's been hunting all of us this whole time, just waiting for the moment to strike. Evading when it's in her favor, hiding when it isn't.

Smart girl.

"I'm sorry your brother died," says Suki, as I choke and spit up blood, "only because I wish I was the one to kill him. Don't you think it's kind of funny that he underestimated the girls and there's only one boy left and four of us?" She makes a _tsking_ sort of sound, and digs the knife a little into my flesh. The burning is intense and painful, as if the sharpness of the knife isn't enough. "I thought I understood you're strategy, but I've watched you long enough to know you won't betray the prince. Bad choice, Nine," she says, and draws back the knife. "Either way, it'll get you killed."

I buck under her weight, get a slight advantage on her, but she slams me back against the ground, pinning me down again. She's very experienced and knows exactly how to pin a victim. Tiny dots are still swarming around the edges of my vision.

_Is this how you want to die?_

This time I don't know whose voice this is, but it's powerful enough that I turn my face to look at Suki. I refuse to drop her gaze, no matter how much I hurt, no matter how much I want to close my eyes, because the comment about Sokka has filled me with enough rage that I refuse to die without some shred of dignity. I can only hope, now, that Zuko can recover quick enough to kill Suki and the rest of the tributes.

"Any last words, Nine?"

As a last act of defiance, I work up a mouthful of blood and saliva and spit it in her face. It earns me another smack, this time with the hard edge of her palm, right across my cheekbone. Blood from my mouth actually flies out from the intensity of the hit. _It's worth it, though_, I think miserably. _I'll die on my feet, in the only way I can._

Even though I'm seeing stars again, I keep my eyes open, staring up to where I know Suki's face must be. Because I won't give in and look away or close my eyes. I won't cry and I won't cry out for Zuko, or anyone else, to save me. My mother is dead. My brother is dead. My father surely expects me to die. I'm tired of playing this game.

Suki's eyes glaze over, the look a predator has right before they kill their prey and I know this is it. I tense, preparing for the final blow—_Sokka, here I come_—but before it happens, before I can even blink or breath, some great force yanks Suki from my body. There's a _thud_, a girlish cry, and then the muffled sounds that I can't quite make out. All I know is that I'm free.

I cough and flip onto my stomach. It takes another couple of seconds to get to my hands and knees, my arms shaking so badly I almost fall back down. I spit out a mouthful of blood. It leaves a bitter, salty taste in my mouth. My head is still spinning too much to move any more than this, but a terrible, shrieking bellow of pain forces me to my feet because Zuko should _never_ make that kind of sound.

In the shock of not dying, I almost forgot about him.

Swaying, I stagger through the smoke, following the painful sounds of the prince, forgetting about Suki, forgetting about my burning cheek and broken fingers. Everything hurts and I can barely see, but I don't stop. Maybe I can't save myself from Suki, but I can help Zuko take her down, even if it drags me down in the process. I have to try.

I finally find him through the haze of cloudy darkness. To my surprise, he's alone, no Suki in sight. But I still survey the area, just for a second, because I don't want to run directly into a trap. Two, three, ten seconds go by, and then rush over to him, because Suki would have attacked by now.

The prince is down on his knees. His hands are held out, palms up, shaking every bit as badly as the rest of his body. He looks like he's in some kind of agony that's ripping him to pieces from the inside out.

Zuko leans forward and spits out a slimy, crimson arrow from his mouth. The blood immediately grabs my attention. His hands are completely coated in blood and it's dripping to the ground and all over arms. Even his mouth is stained red, like he's some sort of carnivore that just finished ravaging a snack. An arrow is sticking out of his right palm, the feathered tip facing the sky. Remembering what Suki had said, a terrible thought occurs to me—that the arrow he spit out came from the other palm. Whether it pierced all the way through his hand, through all the tissues and bones, I don't know, but it's horrifying to look at.

Zuko can't stop shaking and I'm too stunned to move.

A familiar cry breaks through to me and diverts my attention. I look toward the sound and have to strain a little against the darkness, but that pink stands out. It's Ty Lee, locked in combat with a dark cloaked figure that must be Suki. They move the same way, running and kicking off trees, swinging fists and high kicks. A deadly dance, circling each other, attacking from every angle relentlessly. In my panic to find Zuko, I hadn't even realized the sounds they're making—the grunts, the battle cries—or else I would have figured out that the prince and I were not alone.

Ty Lee is the one who pulled Suki off me. I never even suspected it could be anyone but Zuko. But of course, I should have realized Zuko is here, in front of me, so it has to be someone else fighting Suki. But where is Azula? Didn't Suki say she was following a false trail? Did that mean Ty Lee and Azula split up? Probably, to cover more ground. But Azula won't be far away from her ally. She wouldn't split up _that_ far. Which means Zuko and I have to run. In this condition, we stand no chance in a fight.

I fall to my knees in front of the prince. "Let me see," I say, trying to sound gentle, but time really isn't on our side and I sound a little harsher than I intend to.

"Something is on the arrows," he says through gritted teeth, without looking at me, still wracked in agony. _Oh, I wish I could take away your pain._

"It's a stinging venom," I say. Another look at his face, and I know how he got the first arrow out. Teeth. He had to pull it out with his teeth because he didn't have a hand to use. He didn't have my hands, which he should have, if I was here.

Suddenly I feel so terrible, so useless and pathetic, that I just sit there, frozen.

"I thought—I couldn't go after you—my hands." Zuko's voice cracks. I've never seen him in this much pain and I can't stand it. Somehow, seeing him hurt this much lessens the pain I'm feeling and gives me more strength.

"I know," I assure him. "It's okay."

His eyes lift to mine, finally looking at me. His face jerks. "Your face," he whispers.

_It burns_. "It's fine. Let me help you get the second one out." I reach out to grab the arrow but the prince snarls at me and pulls back with a loud, "No!"

"It'll only get worse!" I argue, and suddenly I can hear Ty Lee and Suki's fighting more prominently and panic really starts to settle in. Panic and pain. "Azula could be here any second. We have to run, now!"

"I'm not running away from her like a coward!"

Sudden, blinding fury takes over me to the point where I'm past rationalization. "You're in no condition to fight anyone, including me!" I shout back, and before he can stop me, before I think it through, I reach down and yank out the arrow with all my strength.

The sound of metal slicing through skin, tearing through the tissue, makes me cringe and if I wasn't so angry at his pride, I might feel a little guilty. The prince lets out another terrible bellow of pain and crumples forward; I catch him before he hits the ground. He shivers against me and I wonder if perhaps he's actually crying. But I don't look at his face because if he falls apart so will I. And then we're both goners.

I grab his wrists and flip over his hands, inspecting his palms. They're bleeding too much for us to try to run away. The blood will only leave a trail, and I don't have time to stop the flow, but we can't just stay here. We only have one place to go.

Up.

"Come on," I say quietly, and try to get the prince back on his feet, but he jerks away from me, like I've burned him. He stands up on his own, shaking all over, glaring at me with such intensity that I'm actually proud of myself for not backing away. Steam comes out of his nostrils as he snarls at me, looking the most inhuman I've ever seen. No tears, though.

"Be angry at me later but please trust me now," I say desperately, over the sound of clashing metal. "We have to hide while they're distracted. Before Azula gets here. We can't outrun them right now. Please, _please _come with me." I'm begging now, but I don't care.

Zuko gives me a long, hard look, still breathing hard. Fury burns beneath those dark lashes. For a moment I fear he's going to leave me, but then he exhales steam and nods once.

We put a little distance between us and the tributes, just enough so they can't see us. The climb is excruciating. The prince uses his elbows and legs to hoist himself up, and I'm limited because of my fingers, so it takes effort on both our parts. We help each other the best we can, and tears actually form in my eyes from the exertion and pain I feel all over. About thirty feet up, we find a fork of two thick branches, and each of us take one, flattening on our backs, breathing hard. The forks are close enough that our bodies press together.

After catching my breath I sit up and check Zuko's arm while he's still exhausted, the one the dragon had injured, and am relieved the wound hasn't reopened. I decide against ripping off his shirt to check his chest. If he needs attention there, he can ask. He mutters something about hitting his head, but there's nothing I can do about that.

I lie back down. A minute or two goes by and then I can feel the prince shifting beside me, tearing off bits of clothing with his teeth.

His frustrated grunts only frustrate me more. He's too proud to ask, still too angry at me, so I lean over and take the fabric, wrapping it around his shaking hands wordlessly. The salve will do no good until the bleeding stops and the wounds are clean. And of course I left my canteen on the ground. For now, we have to wait it out.

I don't look over and watch, but I can hear the growls, hissing, and howls of pain from both tributes below. Metal on metal as blades collide. They're putting up a good fight. The Capital must be raving. They're probably angry at Zuko and me, hiding up in the trees, but I know this is what Pakku would say to do. There is nothing heroic about jumping into a fight you're not prepared for. I know Zuko doesn't want to hide, either, but it's the best strategy if we want to live.

Toph's words suddenly come to mind. _Run now and live to fight another day_.

Ty Lee and Suki fight for what seems like a long time, and every passing second I keep wondering when Azula is going to show up. When she's going to find us and blast us out of this tree.

But she never does.

I don't know how long the fight goes on, but finally there's a terrible snapping sound and a piercing cry echoes into the night. The kind of cry that belongs to someone's very last. A body hits the ground. Even though I want to turn and look, I remain still, hidden in the trees, because maybe neither of them saw us climb up here. Maybe they think we ran off. I reach out to my side and grab Zuko's forearm, silently telling him not to look, either. Soon a canon will go off and a flag will drop.

_Live to fight another day_.

A heavy, tired sigh. Foliage rustles against the wind, crunching leaves below footsteps—someone taking off into the forest, it sounds like. Maybe they know we're here, or maybe they're too wounded and have to retreat. It was a long fight.

"Azula," a voice says softly, but the voice cracks and she's sobbing so loud and painfully that I actually cover my ears to block it out.

It's Ty Lee. That means Suki retreated. And that means she injured Ty Lee enough to know she won't be chasing after her. I don't know what to think. Somewhere in the back of my mind, both girls seemed so invincible, and I never imagined they could fall. But with two girls fighting to the death, I suppose someone has to eventually.

Zuko and I wait for the canon, silent and unmoving, barely breathing. What feels like an hour goes by, and it never comes. The air is unnaturally icy and biting with the wind. Maybe it's because we're so high up, I don't know. The night drags on. Wind rattles the trees, and Ty Lee finally stops crying, just faint, agonized moans. I don't understand why she's still alive, why a canon hasn't gone off, but I keep forgetting this is Suki who did this. She injured Ty Lee enough to stop her from pursuit, but not enough to die. Yet. There must be more than one wound, sliced through her in a way that will only kill her slowly.

When I actually get the nerve to peer down through the branches, I can only make out bits of pink fabric. Ty Lee is on the ground, not moving, but still alive—that much I know for certain.

I sit up, as quietly as I can, and turn my attention to Zuko because he's been far too still and quiet for his personality. His face is paler than usual under the scarce moonlight. Eyes pressed shut, jaw tight. He's so still I'm afraid to touch him, because surely he's only this still to hold in all the pain.

I examine his hands. They've already bled through the fabric. I shift my satchel and pull out the last of the bandages. I was hoping the blood would stop and we could save these, but it doesn't seem likely.

Zuko's hands are shaking against his chest—and so are mine, because of the cold and because of my fingers—but I manage to rip off the bloody fabric and replace them with the fresh bandages. It's a slow process, because I'm pretty sure two of my fingers are really broken. I can't move them at all, my pinky and ring finger. It's too dark to tell if they're swollen but all that remains now is a deep, dull throbbing sort of pain. I can probably still bend, if I can just push through the pain.

And if I had some water.

"Does it hurt," Zuko says softly, startling me. His eyes are open, watching me intently. Or maybe they've been open for a while and I've not noticed. The prince lifts a bandaged hand and brushes it against my cheek; I can feel crusts of blood flick off.

I shiver. "I can't really f-feel it anymore," I say, not entirely a lie. My face is practically numb on the left side from being hit, repeatedly, but the stinging from the slice of the knife, from the venom, still burns.

"Are you cold?"

I didn't even realize I am until he asks. I nod in response. He lifts his right hand, shakily, and pulls me down next to him, wrapping his arms around me. Almost immediately I feel warmer, and grateful Firebenders can regulate their body heat. I also suspect the Elites are working together to drop the temperature around us, making it unbearably cold. I'm used to the cold—I love the snow, the ice, the frost—but it's horrible if you're not prepared for it.

June didn't exactly plan for freezing winds when she designed my wardrobe. And tonight is the coldest it's been since we've been in the Games. Even Zuko shivers every once in a while, the effort to keep us both warm straining him.

The next few hours are possibly the worst I've encountered in the arena. Every once in a while Zuko drifts off, and I have to shake him awake because the biting cold is too terrible to bear alone. That, and I'm afraid if he falls asleep for too long he won't wake up. But that's not even the worst part. The nightmare is listening to Ty Lee moaning, whimpering, crying, and begging for the princess to come.

But Azula never does.

After a very short time, I no longer care that Ty Lee is begging for the princess, that she allied with the Fire tributes and tried to kill me on more than one occasion. I just want her suffering to end. I actually want Azula to come, even if it means she'll finish off Ty Lee just like she did Mai. Because surely lightning to the chest is better than what she's going through. I just don't want to listen to this anymore.

It goes on and on, Azula's name resounding in the arena, with only silence as the response. It freezes time all around me, until my mind can't comprehend anything but these agonized sounds and the cold, this standstill, a game that never ends. I can feel tears silently leaking from my eyes, and I have to wipe them before they stick to my cheeks. I don't know if this night will ever end, or if I'll ever be able to hear anything other than the sounds of this dying girl beneath me.

"_Azula, Azula, Azula_."

I start to get cold again, and this time I actually yell Zuko's name to wake up, because if he goes to sleep or if he dies and leaves me alone, I know I'll probably lose my mind completely. I don't know how he can even drift to sleep with the sounds from below. I pull out some of our leftover duck meat and force him to eat some, hoping that'll keep him awake.

Time doesn't seem to change. I stare up through the leafy branches, at the moon, at the stars above, wishing that somehow they could give me some solace. But all I see is emptiness, a stretch of black canvas, and wonder if that's the path I'm heading down. Nothing but blackness, emptiness, with no hope.

Zuko twitches a little, and I mentally scream at myself for not realizing he has fallen asleep again. His hand brushes over mine, squeezing once, letting me know he's awake now—it's warm and sticky. His palms are still bleeding. The loss of blood is probably what's putting him to sleep, dulling his senses, his body needing to shut down to recuperate. I really need to get that water if I can manage it. That way I can clean the bandage, re-use them, and apply the salve.

I don't know if it's the desperation I feel to get Zuko some water or the agonized sounds of Ty Lee that have me moving and descending the tree. "The canteen," I say to the prince, when he asks what I'm doing.

The sun is about to come up, the only saving grace I'm feeling, because the cold and night is starting to fade. Ty Lee is quiet when I hit the ground, a still figure, and I think maybe she has finally died. But still, no canon has fired. Her back is facing me, her body curled in the fetal position. I locate my canteen before I move, then tiptoe across the ground, because suddenly I wonder if maybe this is all a trap.

"A-Azula?" Just by the way Ty Lee says the princess's name I know this isn't a trap. The sluggish, broken sort of tone rattled with cold chatter, the effort to speak as difficult as breathing under water. I freeze where I am, expecting her to turn around and see me, but she doesn't move. Her braid has come undone, wild brown hair sprawled against the ground behind her.

My silence brings a choking whimper, the sound a baby animal might make if it was abandoned by its mother.

Maybe it's because Ty Lee, for whatever reason, is the one who pulled Suki off me and ultimately saved me, that I walk over to her.

Her right cheek is pressed to the ground and when I stop behind her, her face doesn't move, but her breathing shakes a little, like she knows someone is here. I look her over. Her pretty pink outfit is ripped and torn, and she's resting in a small pool of inky, black-red blood—venom, from the blackness. Both legs are jutted and bent at awkward angles. It doesn't occur to me that she _can't_ move until her eyes follow me, only her eyes, until I kneel in front of her.

She just looks at me with empty grey eyes. A hand twitches against the ground. It's unclear whether it's moving from the venom that affected her nerves or if she thinks I'm someone else. Those eyes are too vacant to know who I am. I wonder if the venom is affecting her differently than it does me or Zuko, since it appears to have gone through her stomach.

Ty Lee whispers something. I think it's the princess's name again.

Her twitching fingers find mine, gripping with more strength than I expect. They're icy cold, so cold I almost pull away, but I don't have the cruelty in me to pry off her fingers.

"I f-f-found her," Ty Lee stutters, gasping, sounding like she's been trapped under icy water. The way she's looking at me, as though seeking approval and hanging on my word, leaves my throat dry. What would Azula say right now?

"Very good, Ty Lee," I finally manage to say.

Ty Lee exhales a shaky breath and blinks her big eyes at me. She looks so lost, so unlike the bubbly, confident tribute I remember. It's so sad that my heart actually breaks for her. For her family, for all the tributes and their families who have to watch this. I can't imagine watching someone I love and hardly recognize them anymore.

"You r-r-remember my n-name," Ty Lee whispers, mesmerized. Entranced, even.

I force myself to smile and it hurts. "Everyone will remember your name. You are an excellent fighter and made Province Five very proud."

Even though her face is extremely pale, so ghostly and hollow, it lights up at my words. The expression rips at me because she's so blissfully happy that I'm not even sure she knows she's dying. I don't even know if she's feeling the pain any more.

Suki must have broken her legs or paralyzed her, used the venom and cut her stomach so she'd slowly bleed away. This is the first Fire Province tribute Suki has killed, that I know of, which would explain the torturous death. But even a Fire tribute does not deserve this. No one does.

"Stay," Ty Lee says suddenly, those large, grey eyes locked to mine like her life depends on it. "S-s-stay with me, Princess."

Later I'll remember how the girl from Province Five dies. I'll remember holding her frozen hand until the prince pries it away. How he puts her to sleep by applying pressure to a certain spot in her neck. How he promises she has no little time left, and that she'll die painlessly in her sleep. How I argue with him, until he promises me we'll stay until she's gone. I'll remember how we walk away numbly when the canon finally fires.

I'll remember the girl from Five, just like I say I will, and somehow I know the rest of the world will, too.

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><p><strong>AN:** Poor Ty Lee. I think her death might have made me sadder to write than Sokka's, which I didn't think possible. If you've read The Hunger Games, you'll be able to see her death was inspired by Cato. Anyway, hope you liked it, despite being kind of depressing. I didn't realize how cruel Suki was until I wrote this chapter, lol. Ah well. On another note, I'm thinking I can wrap this up in the next two or three chapters. :D

**Review Responses:**

**delicat3: "How many days has it been since they've been in the arena?"** - This is something I should know and don't. I'm guessing..two or three weeks? I've been debating the full moon. :P

**PanPan: "i should really read hunger games."** - Read the first only. The second and third will just make you angry lol. Oh Finnick, my lovely. I was re-reading Catching Fire and almost threw it across the room today. I've decided to pretend that CF and MJ don't exist. (I haven't finished MJ technically, but still. I cheated and know the ending so there. :P)

**fading echo: "I also like how you interact with your readers and answer the reviews you get; you seem like a lovely person."** - Aw thank you! *gives you a hug* Your review made me smile. I like interacting with everyone. It helps me write, actually, listening to feedback and I know what it's like to be a reader, have a question, and the author never answers it. lol Not fun.

**ShoeNinja: "sometimes when things get really bad I guess a little creature comfort is all that keeps people going."** - That's really why they do it. Making soap seems kind of frivolous, as you say, but it's sort of a way to have some normality and comfort. There isn't much opportunity for that in the Games.

**PoyD95: "will this end somewhat like the first?"** - I'm going to have to say no, lol. It's the second to last chapter that will shock people the most, I think. The cliffy, more importantly.

**List of alive tributes**

**Province 1 -Zuko and Azula**

**Province 9 - Katara **

**Province 12 - Suki**


	33. Until We Bleed

**A/N:** Hola! Sorry for being so MIA lately. I spent the last week in Cancun, which was wonderful. :D Got a little writing done, but wasn't able to finish and update. The beach was too distracting! lol Anyway, thanks for waiting. Check out the bottom note for a new announcement! ;) This is kind of a filler chapter, but it's gotta happen to set up the next few.

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><p>"We're bound to linger on.<p>

We drink the fatal drop.

Then love until we bleed.

Then fall apart in parts." - _Until We Bleed_, Lykke Ly

**Chapter 31 - Until We Bleed**

I can't stop walking.

Somehow, stopping only resurfaces every haunting voice and memory. If I just keep going, I'm able to block it out, focusing on what lies ahead. The physical aches I feel—my body, my face, my feet—is nothing compared to the flash of images and sounds in my head. Once while we are walking, I actually scream for someone to just kill Ty Lee so I don't have to hear her moaning anymore. Another time, I swear I hear Sokka shouting for me, and I take off into the forest; only to find myself very tired from running, an angry prince that follows me, and no brother waiting for me. After that, Zuko walks closer to me and watches me carefully in a way that automatically makes me feel defensive.

I don't know how long we walk until we finally stop. I don't know how long Zuko was calling my name before I hear him. I don't know why he stops me now—I haven't shout out again, have I? I only know I stop because he forces me to by catching my hand from behind. When I try to yank free, his fingers tighten around mine.

"No," he says, gently but forcefully. "You have to stop running."

I'm not running, I want to say, but my throat burns too much to speak. I concentrate on breathing, the soft chirping from the birds, the sounds of the forest, so I don't scream. Everything feels awfully close and I feel terribly small, trapped in this giant cage of misery.

I just want out. I want to go home.

Zuko pulls me to him slightly, in such a way that I have to face him. My eyes flicker up and search his face.

"Someone once told me if you keep running, you'll never be able to stop," he says.

I don't know if it's the words, the look on his face, or the surprisingly gentle tone of his voice, but suddenly I don't feel quite as choked and suffocated. I don't put up a fight, either, when he guides me off our path, and sits me down on a mossy boulder. When he finally drops my hand, my fingers curl tightly around themselves, instantly cold. Both hands clench and unclench against my knees. The prince plops down on the ground in front of me, a little roughly, looking exhausted and pale under the gold light. I wonder, idly, how someone who has lived his whole life in the sun remains so pale.

After catching his breath, Zuko carefully removes the bandages from his hands. Then, he holds them up and asks me to cleanse them with the water from my canteen. The way he asks…you would think I was a rabid animal. I oblige without comment, and then watch how he tries, unsuccessfully, to staunch the bleeding.

_Those are deep_, I think, and distantly wonder if there's anything I can do.

A parachute arrives moments later before I think too much. Zuko rips through the fabric with bloody hands, fumbles with the lid of the box, and then pulls out a rolled up piece of parchment, a tiny glass vial, and what looks like coarse black thread and a needle. Something prickles in the back of my mind, like I'm trying to recall an old dream, and then it's gone.

Horrified with myself, it feels like I'm crying, something warm dripping down my cheek. But that can't be right, because I'm too numb for tears. I swipe a hand across my cheek and it comes back sticky and red. More blood. When does the bleeding stop?

"_Dad, where are you? Where are you?"_

"_Calm down, Katara, I'm here. What is wrong?"_

"_Sokka cut himself with a spear and he's bleeding! Hurry, Dad, I don't want him to die!"_

"_It's okay, Katara, he's not going to die."_

"_But all that blood!"_

"_Take me to him. It'll be alright."_

The memory comes suddenly, unwanted, and it takes everything in me to keep myself together. I don't have a mother. I did, but since she died when I was born, I've never really known what it feels like to have one. It's always been just the three of us: me, my brother, and my dad. When I was little, I'd get really sad that I never knew my mother. I still do, but it's easier now, somehow. It's always been hard to not have a constant woman in my life. Sometimes things are just easier to say to a woman when you are one. But my dad makes up for it. He's been two parents my whole life: the caretaker and the protector. He has always been the hero in every story I have ever read or listened to. The one to save the day and make everything okay again. The one who stops the blood and the pain.

_Dad, where are you?_

My eyes burn and I blink away tears, angry with myself. My mind comes back to the present as I swallow back painful memories. I force myself to listen to Zuko mutter under his breath and shuffle about as he examines his new supplies. He pays no attention to me at all, almost like he's forgotten I'm even here. Absently, I trace a bloody finger across the back of my hand, creating the Mark of the Brave, the one I drew on Sokka. Except I don't feel very brave, and now that I see the Mark on my hand, it only makes my stomach lurch with a sudden, overwhelming ache. I disfigure the bloody mark roughly, until there's nothing but streaks of red across the back of my hand.

"What are you doing?" Zuko asks suddenly. Leaves crunch under his boots as he walks over to me. He reaches down and grabs my wrist, but I jerk it away. He scowls at me, and my eyes fall to the ground. "Katara, you need to—"

"_Don't_."

Something in my voice stops him from pursuing the topic. He sighs instead, and then drops to his knees in front of me so that I have no choice but to look at him.

"Have you ever sewed before?" he asks.

I blink and look at him, then down at myself, at my ripped black fabric that is definitely in need of some mending. "Do you want me to patch up my clothes or something?" I say blandly.

"No. You didn't answer the question. Have you done it before?"

I shrug. "Just to mend clothing."

"But not surgically?"

I shake my head _no_, a little baffled.

Zuko pales slightly, looking a little gray in the face. "Well, I need you to mend my hands."

"I can't heal."

"It's not healing," he growls, that usual frustration coming out in his voice. "Not the same thing. Sutures are a binding thread made of silk. It'll stop the bleeding if you seal the wound shut."

_Oh_, I think lamely. _Right_. That's why there was something familiar about the needle and black thread. I've seen this done before. Not everyone can afford to see one of the three healing Waterbenders we have at home and even Waterbenders have trouble sealing deep wounds. _Sutures_, as the prince calls them, are a coarse thread used to stitch up skin. They work about as well as anything, even if the healing process takes longer than Waterbending. It's what my dad did for Sokka when he sliced his hand with the spear; took him to a healer to be stitched up.

I flip over Zuko's palms wordlessly, examining them. Hands that bend fire and destroy everything in its path. Pale, strong, powerful fingers. But they look so weak now, bleeding and shaking. How much blood is on his hands already? How many has he killed in these Games? How many more is he willing to kill? When does the blood stop?

"The vial," I say suddenly, clearing my throat. "Let me see it."

He hands it to me. It's exactly what I expect, a liquidized ointment to help prevent infection. I received something similar in my satchel at the beginning of the Games, but this smells more potent and is probably a lot stronger and more effective.

I rinse Zuko's hands again, pull away the water so they're dry, and then dab on the clear ointment. I take the sutures and needle. Luckily it's already threaded and ready to go. Thank you, generous sponsor. Since the ointment is liquid—was that planned, since I'm a Waterbender?—it has enough water in it that I can bend it, so I run it over the thread, cleansing it.

"You need to sanitize the needle by burning it," I say to the prince. I pinch the bottom of the needle with two fingers and hold it out to him. He points a finger and fire shoots out, engulfing the needle completely. The flame is small and controlled, flickering almost, reminding me oddly of a candle. Zuko runs his finger up and down the needle until my own fingers start to heat up from the hot steel.

"That's good. Now sit still," I say.

It's a tedious process, but Zuko is a good patient. He winces every few stabs of the needle, but never jerks or pulls away. Because I've never actually done this before, I try to think of his flesh as animal skin, like I'm making a blanket or rug for my dad. The blood—I pretend it's red dye. When I finish both hands, it's not as good as a true healer, but the wounds are sealed. At least he won't be bleeding any more.

"Try not to reopen those," I say. "Don't move or flex your hands too much."

Zuko inspects the sutures, seemingly pleased with my job, and then turns back to me and says, "Your turn." He places two fingers gently under my chin and tilts my face to the side. "Wash away the blood and I'll put this on first," he orders, holding up the vial.

The initial sharpness, and heat, of the needle poking into my cheek is enough for me to jump, but Zuko's grip on my chin is too strong and holds me in place. I dig my fingers into the fabric at his shoulders, bracing myself. He tells me to relax, that it won't hurt as much, but I can't seem to manage it. And really, I don't believe him. It's far more painful than he let on. Or maybe that's just because this is on my face, a tender part of the body, in comparison to his palms. Each time the needle pierces my cheek it hurts. And each time the thread pulls through my skin it feels like my skin is going to peel off. Zuko has to be meticulous and slow because of his hands, trying not to rip open his wounds, either, and the pain seems to drag on forever.

"Have you ever done this before?" I say through gritted teeth, willing myself not to cry. If he didn't cry, I sure won't. Maybe if he talks, it'll distract me from the pain.

"Not exactly," he admits. "My Uncle showed me how before the games."

The needle pokes into my skin and I jerk. "Maybe you should have practiced a bit more."

"Just be quiet and sit still," he orders. "You're distracting me." He pauses, pulling his hand back slightly and looking a little lost. "You're distracting me," he says again, quieter this time, like I might not have heard him the first time.

A little baffled, all I think is, _I was hoping you'd be the one to distract me_. By the time I've counted to three hundred it's all done. We've used up nearly all of the sutures and because I'm afraid I'll end up doing more damage to myself with the needle than to others, I bury it into the dirt. If I throw it into my bag, I'll probably end up poking myself in the fingers because it's so tiny. Zuko still has his swords and I have a canteen of water. That'll have to be enough.

I make a few faces, testing out the tightness in my cheek. It's stiff and sore, but no more bleeding. Using the canteen as a mirror, I prod the area around the wound gently with a finger. It's high enough on my cheek that I shouldn't tear it open by accident, but someone could deliberately pull out the sutures or slashes my cheek with a knife or sword. I don't put it past Azula or Suki, so I still need to protect my face as much as possible.

I feel the prince watching me. I drop the canteen. "What?" I say, and when I look at Zuko, he just looks away, a muscle in his jaw working.

"Nothing," he says.

We start walking again even though neither of us says where we're going. We both agree, even though we don't say it, that it isn't safe to stay in one place for too long. Not with Suki and Azula out there.

"Do you think Azula is coming after us?" I ask, because we've been so quiet for what feels like a long time.

"No." The way he says it stops the conversation and for a moment, I stare at him. But he just keeps going forward without looking back at me.

A couple more times, I try to ask things—anything, really, to get him to talk—but Zuko has locked up. Suddenly and not expectantly, there's something tense between us now, like something happened that neither of us want to talk about, but I don't know what it is. I just know that as we walk in utter silence, it's thick and heavy. Uncomfortable, even, not like before, when the silence was comforting.

In the late afternoon, we stop under a canopy of trees and finish the last of our duck. Zuko doesn't light a fire, but it's warm enough to be comfortable, not like the night before. Not when there isn't a dying tribute for the world to watch. What kind of entertainment is a freezing night with two tributes that aren't dying? No, there's no point now. Even though we're both recovering, we aren't dying. And therefore, hardly interesting.

For some strange reason, Zuko decides now is a good time to meditate. I've only seen him do this once or twice, and usually it's in the morning, when the sun is rising and I'm just waking up. Not now, when it's about to set. The times I saw him he had two steady flames, one in each palm, rising and falling with the beat of his breathing. Now, there is no fire, just the sound of his steady breathing. With his eyes closed, dark hair falling into his eyes, his face relaxed—albeit a forced expression—the prince almost looks peaceful. The tension and rigidness of his body says otherwise, but it still makes me jealous because no matter what I do, there is no peace for me. Maybe he's faking it in a false sense of security, but I can't even do that.

I offer to scout the area for food, animals, anything but sit here while Zuko meditates. Anything to get away from this awkward silence. Is he meditating just so he doesn't have to talk to me?

"How long do you plan on meditating?" I snap at the prince, not because I'm angry at him, exactly, but because I'm just angry in general. Why is he so quiet? What did I miss?

"Until I'm finished," he says, eyes still closed.

"And how long is that going to be?"

"Longer, if you keep talking."

"If I keep talking you'll eventually just give up."

Zuko cracks open an eye to glare at me. He has to look up at me from his sitting position on the ground, and my shadow falls across his face as I tower over him. "I never give up," he says.

Somehow, I believe him.

We start walking again and don't stop until it's completely dark. No flags are dropped, so both Azula and Suki are still alive. Not that I expected otherwise, but still, I was sort of hoping they could fight and somehow both die in the process. It's almost funny how initially I had hoped that about Azula and Zuko.

Zuko and I find a willowy tree to climb up, and I create make-shift beds out of pine needles and leafy greens. In silence, of course, because apparently that wall is still up. The branches are sharp, with bits of bark sticking out in all directions. The beds I attempt to make are not helping, either, and eventually Zuko just sits up and lets his feet dangle over a branch, his back pressed to the trunk of the tree. I argue and say it isn't practical. He says there's no way anyone can see us this high and he'll be fine if they do.

I don't really believe him but I'm too tired and annoyed with him to argue. Since neither girl has found us, or come looking, it seems, I'm assuming Suki is still recovering and Azula…

I don't know. I don't really think she's hurt—how can she be? I think she's waiting because she knows Zuko will come to her.

The next morning, I find out I'm right.

"I'm going after Azula," he says over breakfast. Two fried eggs, from an odd, green little bird that looked vaguely familiar when I killed it. "I've known all along it would come down to this but somehow I guess…" he breaks off and sighs, his gaze dropping to the pile of twigs his fingers have subconsciously been breaking.

"You don't want to fight her," I supply gently. Is this why he's been so distant? He's upset about having to fight his sister?

"I always want to fight her," says Zuko, and snaps another twig. "But I don't want to kill her. If there was any other way, I'd take it."

_You don't want to kill her, but you will in order to win_, I think. _And me too._

"Do you think she wants to kill you?" I say, a little absently. A crack of thunder is my answer, and light, soft rain starts to come down. I raise a hand to bend it away from my face, so the sutures stay dry. "Cover your hands from the rain," I say to Zuko.

"I'll be fine."

_The overstatement of the year_, I think, and huff in annoyance. If he wants to risk ruining his sutures, fine, the stubborn mule can do as such.

Zuko stands up and strips away his shirt, tossing it over a hanging branch. Rain water drips down the curves and muscles on his pale back; I have to bite back another scolding of covering his hands. "Azula won't move in the storm," he says. "I'm going to practice."

"But—" I protest, but the prince turns his bare back on me and punches forward.

* * *

><p>You know that feeling when you know something is wrong, but you can't really pinpoint what it is or how to fix it? While Zuko practices Firebending, I rehearse what I'm going to say to him when he stops in my head. Because clearly something has to be said here. I'm not angry at him, but somehow I <em>feel<em> angry. I think it must be a defense mechanism to counter his distant behavior. I don't know. I just want to know what his deal is and what needs to be done to fix it.

I didn't really understand Suki's motives behind shooting Zuko in the palms with poisoned arrows—besides being malicious and aiming to maim—but after about an hour of watching him practice, I can now see why. The hands are the main guide and vessel for all bending, the puppet master controlling all the strings. Except Suki doesn't seem to realize that Firebenders do not need a source like everyone else. Their source, technically, is the sun, but their fire comes from deep within their own bodies. I need my hands to bend, but a Firebender can work around it. And between Zuko's attempts at bending, he's becoming very creative with alternative options for the hands.

The rain has little effect. The fire steams and hisses, recoiling at its opposing element, but Zuko never gives up. He's not shooting out fire with his palms, so the sutures don't burn into a crisp, but using his fingers. He kicks, jumps and leaps, fire bursting from his feet. His movements are rough and agitated, filled with frustrated grunts and snarls. He shouts to the sky in anger a couple times, gold-orange flames bursting from his mouth. That startles me every time. I never realize before, but it's like a raging fire, compacted and sealed into his body, just waiting for a moment to explode free. Are all Firebenders like this? This contained power they have to fight to control?

The more I watch him now, the more I realize Zuko is very angry and bitter. The strain in his face, the fire in his eyes, the harsh lines of his body, says as much. And I don't mean just right now, since his bending is impaired. I mean he's angry at someone, or something. Or maybe he's just an angry person when all the layers are scrapped off the surface. Everyone puts on a certain mask to face certain situations—when they're afraid, when they're fighting, when they're sad—and when all of that is stripped away, it leaves behind a true form of themselves. I've seen the mask Zuko wears when he's fighting, when he's running for his life, when he's hurt or angry, when he's plotting our next move…but when all of that is gone, what mask does he wear? Who is the the real boy behind the scar?

Maybe I shouldn't care, but I want to know. Sokka always used to say I had a weakness for wanting to _fix_ things. I think it might be the nature of a Waterbender, this irrational need to mend and heal. I just can't help it. But I suppose some things just cannot be fixed. Some things are too broken and damaged, the pieces lost and scattered. I guess the point is to know when to keep trying and when to give up.

When Zuko finishes his bending, he's breathing hard with exhaustion. The rain is coming down in sheets now, and some time ago I stopped bending it away from my face. Whether it's the rain or sweat, Zuko's back looks slick and glistening under the moon's glare. He turns around and his expression catches me off guard because it shifts around so quickly it's almost too tough to catch all the emotions. Completely soaked, his dark hair sticks to his head, rain dripping down his cheeks like tears. He just stares at me, with such an odd expression that I have to squint through the pouring rain to make sure it's really there.

And suddenly it feels like I'm bleeding again. Deciding I can no longer stand it, I start to blurt "What's wrong?" but he cuts me off and says,

"I want to split up." His voice is hollow and dead. "I'm going after Azula and I'm going _alone_. If you try to stop me—" he pauses and then drops his voice, low in his throat "—then I'll have no choice but to kill you."

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! Just to let you guys know, I've created a Tumblr blog for my stories, art, etc. The link can be found in my profile. There you can ask me questions and I'll be shooting around snippets and ideas of upcoming stories. Fun stuff. :D Anyway, hope you liked the chapter. Action to come!

**Review Responses:**

**sparkling unicorn: "Are you going to do anything like the games in CF in the sequel?"** - I'm not planning on it, no. This is it for the games aspect. At least that's my plan right now. ;)

**Nat9875: "What would happen if at the beggining everyone refused to fight?"** - Good question! I don't think you could get 24 who would refuse to fight, but if by chance that did happen, I'd assume the Elites would start manipulating the arena, forcing them to fight to stay alive.

**Tainted Creativity: "You're one of my inspirations, now! Along with J.K Rowling and Derek Landy**." - Well thank you! J.K. Rowling is probably my biggest inspiration. Ever. It's almost depressing to think of writing a book, knowing how brilliant Harry Potter is. I mean..it's just so perfect. Gah.

**Iliveonthetardis: "did all the tributes wear the same clothes, like in the Hunger Games, or did each tribute where their own thing?"** - They all wore their own thing designed by their stylists. Ty Lee did wear her pink..I think Katara mentions it a few times. :D

**Naiyo: "I really like what you've done with everyone. How you get into Katara's head and make this all so easy to believe that this is happening."** - Thank you! I have to admit Katara is hard to write in first person. Sometimes I have to stop myself and try not to put what I would do or say, but what _she_ would do or say. It's also hard because she's not exactly the same as the show, so I had to create her character based on the show and the environment she's in now. Her mother's death impacted her character and personality greatly in the series..but that's not really a factor as much in here, so I had to adjust to that. Same with Zuko, really. He was never banished for three years..and that alone gave him part of his personality in the series.

**Gryffygirl: "this chapter hit close to home, and I really like that about your writing. So true to heart."** - Aw, thank you. Poor Teresa..that really is a sad thing. Ty Lee's death was honestly the hardest for me to write, including Sokka's, which was also pretty tough. I think it's because at least Sokka had Katara and died in a noble way, the way he wanted to go. Ty Lee was just so alone. :(

**InItToWinIt: "Zuko kind of admitted he liked her (in a way) and I want to know how the Captiol people reacted to that."** - You'll see the Capital's reaction to things in the sequel, no worries. ;)

**xobrandyxo123: "katara being a bender and all, should have at least some advantage in the games. However she rarely uses the method, and is dare i say, ignorant on how it even works."** - This is true because she is kind of ignorant on it, lol. In the series, Katara may have not had a bending teacher, but she was never restricted to it. She could experiment and what not. In this story, it was forbidden to use bending in any way that could be considered a threat to the Capital. Only for chores and minor things. And not forbidden like in the North Pole in the series, but where Firebenders will actually burn and beat them for punishment. Katara has grown up almost fearful of bending, and so she's had the mentality of using what she HAS learned: fighting with weapons, like her dad managed to sneak and teach her. ;) So I'd say she could have an advantage if she had prior experience, but she hasn't, and there's not a lot of water. Also if you remember in ther series, Katara is terrible at first with waterbending. So bad she steals a scroll from pirates! haha

**"Dont exactly know why toph asked zuko and katara to leave with them?"** - Well, Toph knocked Zuko out, and only asked Katara, technically. :P Toph believed there was a way to escape, and with her Earthbending unique powers of reading/sensing people, saw something in Katara she thought was worth saving. If there was a way to escape, why not bring those she thinks worthy of it? Toph never says this, because really, that sounds OOC of her, haha.

**"How is Suki able to hold her own, a non bender, against all these benders and warriors, she can fight, but how is she winning these 1 on five combats?"** - The same way she can in the series: she's a good fighter. :D But I will say in this story, most of her fights aren't 1 on 5. She doesn't instigate a fight unless it's one on one, typically. You'll notice when she attacked Zuko and Katara, she attacked them one at a time as well. Also when she went for Katara when Katara was with that big group, Suki only took one Longshot. Just one person, picking them off slowly.

**"How are all the benders and fighters, as careful as they are, enable to see her?"** - I wouldn't really call anyone a figher unless they're from the fire provinces, technically. Suki is a rare case and does have a backstory as for why she can fight. But anyway, the arena is huge, and Suki moves mostly at night, when the others are asleep. She's very stealthy, too, like in the series, so she can move quietly. No one sees her because they're not looking for her, either. Groups of people go for the other groups..not the tribute who is working alone. :P She was able to steal the supplies because everyone was under attack from Mai, Chan and Ty Lee. When you've got fire and knives coming at you, the tent isn't where you're focus is. :P

**Shel12: "I am a huge fan of these two, but when are they supposed to kiss?"** - Haha I know, right? I want them to kiss, too, but there's just not been a right moment. I think I know when it's going to be though...:D

**"these two have only killed in defense, they have never gone searching... is that something you have written on purpose to show that these two are the characters with honour etc or is it just the way it has occurred?"** - I'd probably say Zuko killing Chan wasn't out of defense, since Chan was fighting Katara, not Zuko. But Katara's kill was more so blinded by rage and justice than anything. I don't think she could kill without having some emotion behind it. Zuko probably could with his life on the line, but I think it'd be hard for him. But I don't think either could kill in cold blood.

**Candlelight: "Does Ozai have any control on how to manipulate the games through the Elites, so the advantage would be in Azula's favor?"** - He could but he wouldn't do that. Ozai does value honor too much for that, and he's confident enough that Azula wouldn't need to cheat.

**AnnaAza: "It's a bit surreal to see Suki so vicious and murderous. Could you go into that more?"** - It's surreal to write, too! lol She does have a backstory that will be revealed eventually. :D

**maluka: "Also, will there be any kind of relation to the Agni Kai in the season finale?"** - The second to last chapter of this story is called The Last Agni Kai, but I won't say who is in it. ;)


	34. Crossroads of Destiny

**A/N:** I can officially say there will be only **three** more chapters to this story; tough the last one is more like an epilogue. I'm so amazed we are finally to the end. Thank you so much for sticking with me, guys!

* * *

><p>"Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise.<p>

I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you" – _Poison and Wine_, The Civil Wars

**Chapter 32 - Crossroads of Destiny**

The words echo and rattle around my brain, but no matter how long they do, they don't seem to make sense. The rain and thunder surely has messed with my hearing.

"What?" I blurt out, and get to my feet. I feel the sudden need to pull back the heavy, wet hair from my face. I do it quite forcefully, as though it's the cause of my sudden panic.

"How long do you think we could keep this up?" Zuko's voice comes out angry and bitter against the pouring rain. "There are only four of us left. We should have split up a long time ago."

He's probably right, but I have no idea, looking back, when we _could_ have split up. Or when I would have liked to. When there was a time when I didn't need him.

The thought hits me so suddenly and intensely that I actually take a step back, as though he had physically slapped me. It takes me a second to get myself together.

I swallow thickly."But our chances of surviving are better when we're together."

"Are they?" says Zuko harshly. "Because I'm starting to think the opposite."

I have no idea what that's supposed to mean but I'm suddenly angry.

"You're still injured!" I pause to control my voice since it's bordering on hysterical. "Azula scored a twelve in training and can shoot lightning. Do you honestly think you're prepared for _that_?"

"I know how good she is!" he yells, and it's so loud that I'm surprised the trees don't shake. "I've been constantly reminded about it for the past sixteen years!"

"Then why split up?" I counter, and march right up to him, swiping more wet hair from my face, too wrapped around the idea of bending the prince into a very discomforting shape than bending away the rain. "You can't do this alone, Zuko, it's suicide!"

"This whole game is suicide, in case you haven't noticed," he says heatedly.

"But—"

"I don't expect you to understand. What do you know of honor and nobility and duty? You're just a peasant from a nobody province who was stupid enough to volunteer a life sentence! And for what—your brother? He died for you because of it!"

_SMACK!_

The sound of my hand connecting with Zuko's stony, wet cheek reverberates around the arena; rain water flings off his face from the impact. What feels like a heavy silence follows, only it isn't silent, because of the rain, but it might as well be. My hand tingles, vibrations shooting up my arm from the strength behind the hit. For just a moment, I feel guilty—I seemed to have hit him on the scarred side of his face—but the guilt passes because I'm too furious with him.

The prince has gone very still, a pale, cold statue. He has not moved his head from the position it has been forced into by my hand and the harsh scar stares back at me, obscured with wet, messy hair sticking to his face.

I let out a furious, ragged breath. Zuko's jaw tightens, clamping down hard, but he still doesn't turn to look at me. Doesn't move.

"Don't you dare say you didn't deserve that." My voice shakes with rage. "And don't ever, _ever_ bring up my brother again."

I turn away, visibly shaking all over, refusing to succumb to tears in front of him. My hands clench at my sides, my legs trembling. A damp, russet colored lump catches my eye. I take a few strides, reach down—my fingers grope furiously inside the bag—and pull out the prince's crown. Even with bleary vision, the dim lighting, the gold still glimmers. I march back to Zuko, annoyed with the rain obscuring my vision, but still too angry to bend it away.

"Here," I say impatiently, and hold out his token. He's still looking in the same direction, away from me, but I know he knows what's in my hand. "Take your crown with you when you leave. That way you can wear it _proudly_ when you fight your sister. In some sick, twisted way that your family appears to be, I'm sure your father will be oh so proud at watching his children _fight to the death_. Better dress appropriately!"

When he doesn't move to take it, or move at all, for the matter, I shove the crown into his chest, meaning to brush past him as I do, but he catches my hand and traps it there. I refuse to look at him, even though I think he's actually looking at me now. Instead I drop my gaze and focus on our entrapped hands.

Our hands, each a contrast to the other. Hands that should not be locked.

And just like that, my anger starts to defuse, and all that's left is an empty ache. Because deep down I'm not angry at him—I'm just empty and cold and tired and want to go home. I wish the anger would come back, though, because it's so much easier to wrap myself up in that fever than feel _this_. This anguish and longing and constant reminder of what I could have done, how I could have done it, and who I could have saved. Like Aang. Like Toph.

Like Sokka.

"I'm leaving in the morning," he says, or something similar to that. I know by his tone that I can't argue him out of this one. At least, I have to purpose an argument that he cannot refuse.

There's only one way to do that. He says he has no choice, fine. I will give him no other choice. And as much as it kills me, because I know there is no other way, that eventually it has to be done and if I don't say it now, I never will—

"Prince Zuko, I challenge you to an Agni Kai."

Zuko jerks back as though I have burned him, dropping my hand, and dropping the crown; it hits the ground with a _thump_ and rolls away. The prince backs up a step and our gazes lock; his eyes burn with some kind of wild emotion, face blank and stunned.

I swallow hard.

"The terms are simple," I say calmly. "If I win, then I fight with you against Azula. If you win, then I don't, and you can leave on your own."

_And maybe we'll never see each other again_. I don't know which would be worse: seeing him again in the arena or never seeing him again.

Zuko stares at me, long and hard, and then his eyes flicker away, fury radiating off him in waves of heat. I can see the reluctance in the set of his shoulders, the way his hands clench at his sides. And yet…there is also resolve. A sense of the inevitable.

"Unless you lied to me, you are bound to my challenge and agreement."

I know that's a bit of a stretch—he is not _bound_ to fight me, but everyone is watching this. Turning me down would probably play badly at the Capital. Cowardly, even. He knows that, and he knows that I do, too.

Zuko looks back at me, agonized and cold and angry. He studies me, and it's like I can see his mind working, trying to find a way out of my proposal. Just when I start to feel triumphant, his face falls a little in what looks like relief.

"And what if I want to duel to the death?" he says.

"You don't." _I hope_.

"I'd rather you die at my hand than at Azula's," he says, quiet and serious. "And so would you."

"I suppose you killing me still apply to the terms I bargained with," I say reluctantly, after a moment. "I can't really fight Azula with you if I'm dead."

_Well played, jerk_.

"Then we have a deal," he says flatly, still angry.

I nod. "You're on."

* * *

><p>We agree to rest and sleep until the storm finally stops, and when it does, the sky is still dark, the moon casting a faint glow across the wood. I filled my canteen with fresh rainwater, and preserved more of it when I received an empty barrel from a sponsor. A simple note was attached:<p>

_Foolish girl_.

Despite the gravity of the situation, I had to smile at that. Pakku had to pull a lot of strings for a sponsor gift right before a declared battle. He must really want me alive, for some reason.

I kneel at the opposite end of the forest, facing away from Zuko, about thirty feet away. My barrel next to me, a canteen strapped around my body for backup. I force myself to think about the prince as my opponent, and nothing more.

_He'll be weak in the hands with bending, _I think._ But he still has his feet, so watch the sweeps and kicks. He's strong, quick, and has pretty good endurance. But Firebending is tiring, and with him still being injured, maybe I can outlast him. His vision has to be weaker on the scarred side of his face—attack from that angle. _

_ Don't hold back. Don't hesitate._

I take a deep breath and touch my mother's pendant, sending her a silent prayer, and then I rise.

Zuko is already in a crouched in a fighting stance. The gleam of the moon gives his eyes a hard edge, silver instead of the usual gold. I wish I could read what's on his face, but this is not the face of my ally, the one I trust, the one I understand—this is the face of the Capital. Ruthless and cold and furious.

He makes the first move and punches forward. A huge wave of gold-orange fire lights up the dark sky, rocketing toward me, but I pull up a wave of my own from the barrel to block it. Fire collides with water in an explosive, hissing sound. Sparks fly and the sheer intensity whips my hair back.

Zuko jumps into the air and sweeps his foot around, bursts of fire exploding from his foot. Kick, after kick, after kick. I raise my hands to block them, but each hit scoots me back, my feet sliding across the ground. Turning a handful of water into thin, ice daggers, I fling them at the prince as he runs at me; he dives out of the way and kicks off a tree, leaping into the air again and punching more fire forward.

I jump out of the way, the heat brushing past my stitched up cheek. Too close. More fire barrels toward me and I duck behind a tree, pressing my back against it, breathing hard. I close my eyes for a moment.

I don't know how I can possibly win with such an offensive opponent.

Suddenly I hear Hama's voice, something she said to me during our training sessions.

_Water is an extension of your arm_.

Something hard rattles the tree, hotter than hot. Fire surges past me, the tree splitting the waves from burning me to a crisp; my hands instinctively cover my ears from the sound. Zuko did it to scare me, I realize, instead of blowing up the tree completely.

"Is that all you've got?" I hear, somehow managing to sound both flat and taunting.

I grit my teeth and pull more water to me, letting it glide up my arms until I have two long whips, longer and wider than I've ever managed to control before. I jump out from the tree and lash the whips forward. Zuko is closer than I expected and barely manages to leap backward far enough to avoid the whips. He does a sort of back flip and lands in a crouch.

His eyes shoot up to mine. "I see you've learned a new trick," he says.

I answer him by slashing forward, my feet turning and spinning, striking over and over. The moon is not full, but I can still feel the power from it. Each lash of water grows more powerful, more precise, and more deadly. I'm attacking so fast now that Zuko can't do more than block me or dive out of the way.

But then he finds an opening and punches forward with both hands, forming two whips of fire of his own. They spit and hiss, slashing forward to collide with mine. I pull back and bring my arms down again, harder this time, but the fire just clashes with them.

I withdraw a whip and bring my hand down, sending the water coiling across the ground like a snake. It slithers around Zuko's ankle and hardens with an icy grip. The fire whips pause in midair as the prince glances down, but I'm a step ahead of him. I yank my wrist back, and the prince is taken off his feet, landing flat on his back. I press my advantage, bringing another wave forward, but Zuko moves at lightning speed. His leg kicks out in a sweeping motion, almost like a sort of dance move, and fire whirls around in a ring of fire across the ground.

It's too powerful and fast to avoid. The fire takes my feet from under me and I hit the ground hard; all my water shatters around me. I cough, completely winded, but when I blink my eyes, all I see is a ball of fire coming at me. I roll to the side quickly, barely missing Zuko's fist. Blow after blow comes at me, but I keep rolling across the ground to avoid it.

And for the first time, I start to wonder if there's more to this fight than we've let on. I wonder if he's trying to kill me, and if I'm trying to kill him.

Finally I try to get up—but strong arms slam my shoulders back to the ground. I kick and snarl, but the prince overpowers me with his brute strength. He straddles me, his knees digging painfully into my sides. A hand reaches down and chokes my throat, not tight enough to kill me, but enough so that it grabs my attention and causes me extreme discomfort.

My hands fly to my throat, trying to pry off his iron grip. My nails dig into his skin, drawing blood, but he doesn't waver. He pulls back a flamed fist, ready to deliver the final blow.

"Surrender," he says, breathing hard. The request is somewhere between a demand and a plea.

"Never," I choke out.

Zuko's fist comes at me—out of instinct, I reach up and meet the ball of flame, my hand curling around his fist. For a moment, there's searing, blinding pain that makes me cry out, but then it stops, almost as suddenly as it came. My small hand clenches around Zuko's, and I jerk that arm upward until my elbow collides with his temple.

He yelps in surprise. It's not enough to do much damage, but enough for me to throw him off and get to my feet. The night seems to call to me, fueling my power in ways I've never really known before. I pull the rest of the water from the barrel to my aid and launch it at the prince. And round and round we go.

The fight seems to last forever. Or maybe it's only a couple of minutes, I don't know. All I know is that every block and attack is getting harder and harder. Zuko is using more kicks and sweeps now, and I distantly wonder if I've damaged his hands further. Guilt gnaws at me but only a little. Because it's hard to feel guilty about someone who is fighting you.

The prince knocks over the barrel of water with a swift kick of flame. Panicking, I pull all of it to my aid. Both fists light up in fire and he pulls back to strike—I launch the entire wave at him with a sudden burst of power, encasing him inside, trapping him and defusing the fire. My hands shake—one still burns terribly—as the prince struggles in the water, completely submerged. I keep my hands held up, controlled, and harden the water into a giant sphere of ice.

Those gold eyes pin me where I am. Stuck, frozen in the ice, he looks beyond furious, and something else that I might be able to decipher if I had more time. But I have to concentrate on my bending. All I have to do is keep him trapped in here until he passes out.

But then—I have to squint to make sure I'm seeing this right—steam starts to escape Zuko's mouth and nose. _Inside_ the ice.

There's a ground shaking explosion of water and ice and fire and a snarl that echoes in the arena, the sound of something furious and raging. The sheer intensity and power blasts me backwards; I fly through the air and slam into a tree.

The arena goes deadly silent except for a shrilling ring in my ears. Stars dance behind my eyes and it's like my mind is working like a clock. Ticking, ticking, ticking in my ears. But then everything—the colors, the arena, the forest—swarms out of focus, and all I can see is a dark shadow standing in front of a brilliant, gold light.

A distant voice echoes in my ears.

"You rise with the moon. I rise with the sun."

* * *

><p>Time seems to drag—I'm drifting in and out. I keep seeing faces: faces that matter, faces that shouldn't. Voices whisper in the soft breeze, voices of suffering, despair, pain. Something warm caresses my neck, pulling me deeper and deeper under the waves of unconscious. I feel caught somewhere between reality and a dream; I don't know where one stops and the other begins. It must be a dream because I'm floating, through waves of fire and past endless shadows and under the stars. But a fluttering sort of sound distracts me constantly. Not enough to wake me fully, but enough that I can't fall into a deep slumber. Then I hear something singing. Distantly, I wonder if I'm hallucinating, because this has to be a bird, and most don't sing at night. The song is familiar, but I can't quite place it. All I know is that it's hauntingly sad, in such a way that I want to rip off my ears so I don't have to hear it.<p>

"Oh, shut it, will you?" I finally snap, and when the bird doesn't stop, I finally get up.

Or at least I try.

A swearing pain in my head stops me, but that's not all. I'm flat on my back. My body is strapped to something—a branch, it must be—with tight roping, high in a tree. My arms are pinned to my side, useless. Confusion sweeps over me only a minute, and then the ache in my head pieces everything together.

Betrayal.

That's the first thing I feel and it surprises me, because _being alive_ should be the first. I don't have to look or shout his name to know Zuko's gone, left me here, tied to this tree, in order to fulfill what he claims to be his duty or destiny or whatever it is: he's gone to fight Azula without me. He left me.

I don't remember how I got here, in this tree—I remember our agreement, the Agni Kai, the fighting—but I don't remember losing. But I must have, right? Otherwise I wouldn't be here.

Damn him! And damn whatever sponsor sent him this rope! Did he ask for it, like I did with the medicine from General Iroh? Or did they just want him to sever ties with me and sent it in, hoping he could piece together what he's supposed to do? Or, I suppose it could have been sent in to strangle me. Then again, he could have used his hands for that.

Either way, I'm sure he was meant to kill me. I'm sure the Capital will not be happy about it. I'm sure my sponsors and dad and Province 9 will be happy about it. But I'm not sure how I feel about all of this.

I strain against the rope a few minutes before realizing it's useless. The irony of the situation is that Zuko has tied me to a tree before in these games.

This is humiliating.

I can hear that stupid bird echoing something that I swear sounds like laughter.

"I'm coming for you as soon as I'm out of this mess," I promise the bird, snarling.

I take a deep breath. Okay, every rope has a beginning and end. It has to have a knot, somewhere, that keeps it together. If I find the knot, I might be able to untie it.

My fingers grope against the branch, the rope, trying to find it, when they brush against something hard and smooth. I can't quite make out what it is, but it's strapped to the branch just past my thigh. I strain harder to reach it, biting my lip. The rope is so tight against my chest that it burns but I don't stop trying. I keep reaching, stretching—

And finally my fingers snag it.

Just by the feel, I know it's the hilt of a knife. The blade is pressed to a piece of the rope and I start to saw, back and forth, careful not to cut myself. Because my arms are strapped down, it's difficult and awkward. My wrist aches and burns from the labor but I don't stop until it finally snaps. The rope uncoils completely. I untangle myself and throw it off, down to the forest floor.

I sit up slowly, so my head doesn't start spinning. The bird, a tiny green thing, zips out of the trees and out of sight before I can throw the knife at it. I look around and notice my satchel is smashed down; it was pressed under my head, safely concealed. I scan the inside but it's completely empty, aside from some squished kumquat juice that's plastered to the sides. For a moment I start to panic, realizing I'm missing a vital content, but then I remember seeing Zuko take his crown, stashing in his robes, just before our fight.

I examine the knife. It's superior craftsmanship, more like a long dagger in size. A shiny black hilt, a single pearl incrusted in it. The actual blade is sleek, sharpened to perfection. When I tilt the dagger, the light catches an inscription on the blade.

"Made in Earth Kingdom," I read aloud quietly.

Huh. I sort of expected something a bit more…warrior like, or something. Maybe a name of some all mighty Master or General. My dad says the Earth provinces used to be known as the Earth Kingdom, but no one calls them that anymore. Kingdom implies unity and a ruler, and the only ruler in this world is Fire Lord Ozai.

I flip over the blade and there's another inscription.

_Never give up without a fight._

A strange feeling twists my stomach, too many emotions going through me to identify which one stands out the most. I scoot backwards on the branch until my back presses against the trunk of the tree. I stare down at the words on the blade, trying to make sense of what just happened. The dagger could only come from one person, and it isn't a sponsor of mine.

"_If I keep talking, you'll eventually give up."_

"_I never give up."_

Zuko, the prince of the Capital that I despise, accepts my challenge of a fight, probably should have just killed me, but tied me to a tree instead, and left me this dagger. And all I can think is that it sounds like something Sokka would do. That alone makes it easier to see reason behind the actions.

Sokka would have tied me to the tree so I wouldn't follow him if I woke up too soon. Zuko must have known that the only way I wouldn't go with him or follow him, despite my word, was if I was dead. But he didn't kill me…so he created a way to stop me. But the dagger…

Sokka would have left it for extra protection. The same could be said for Zuko, but I remember the last time he tied me to a tree, and the only reason he untied me was because I questioned his honor about leaving a helpless girl in the wilderness as bait.

I almost smile, despite everything. Somehow I find the fact that he left the dagger a little amusing, like he wouldn't want to be called out again.

No, it's not about protection with Zuko, but a chance to show his honor. The dagger was placed too conveniently at the spot on the rope that set me free. He must have known by the time I came around and freed myself, he'd be long gone by then.

_Never give up without a fight._

I have no idea how he got this dagger—another sponsor gift?—but the message speaks volume of his character to me. I suddenly wonder if he's always lived his life this way. I can't help but think it must be true.

I know I have. And I know what he wants me to do—or what _not_ to do, more likely—and I know if we are the last two tributes standing, we will have to face off against each other. I know I'm teetering over a very high and dangerous cliff. In every journey, my dad would say, a person reaches a crossroads; one that would ultimately change their life—however long that might be—forever.

I think I'm here.

I don't know how this can possibly end well, and I don't know the ideal ending, but I know I wouldn't be here, one of the four remaining tributes, if those words on the blade weren't true about me.

I may not be the strongest fighter or bender, but I never give up without a fight. And I never turn my back on those who need me, especially those I _can't_ turn my back on even if I wanted to. The crossroads—this decision—is suddenly easier than I thought it would be.

Zuko might be the Capital's prince, my enemy, and another tribute standing in my way to victory. But somewhere in these Games I've realized something: even if I don't win, even if I die, there is still hope. Zuko gives me that hope. Hope that if he wins, someday he will be Fire Lord, and someday he could change the world. He has that ability—the ability to change everything from what we've known to be right and true. And not just because of his title, as a prince of the Capital, but because of _whom he is_, in his heart. He has the ability to change lives—he's already changed mine, even if I've just realized it.

That's why I believe he is a true prince of the Fire Nation, someone worthy of being a victor of the Black Games. But that's not why I'm going after him now. I'm going after him because it's personal and I'm selfish. I'm going after him because I've realized something else: I don't want to lose him.

I don't want to lose the boy with the scar.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Several of referenes went into this one. The Seige of the North, The Crossroads of Destiny, the dagger, and the last line, especially. Katniss always calls Peeta "the boy with the bread" so I wanted to do a play off that. :P Hope you liked it!

Since we have reached exactly **800 reviews** (OMG, thank you guys!), your **bonus** will be one last character question/answer session. You get one question for one character, but I won't answer anything too spoilery. :P The other part of this bonus is that you'll get to see the trailer for Insurgent, which is looking outstanding so far. Hopefully it'll be ready by the time this story is finished and I'll post it with the final chapter. :)

Can we talk about **Legend of Korra**? The first two episodes were released and I am LOVING it. And Mako and Korra..they are so happening. I called it ages ago but I'm sure of it now, haha. Bolin is wonderful, too. I love him and Mako.

Don't forget, you can find me on **Tumblr** now! Many of you have added me, so thank you for that! There you can always ask me questions and I'll be posting about my stories, Zutara and likely Legend of Korra, namely Makorra. ;)

**Review Responses:**

**Nat9875: "I just read the hunger games and I was really curious if it's going to turn out the same?"** - I will say there are no berries/threat of suicide. But I won't say how it turns out. :P

**lounger: "But i'm wondering, is there a avatar?"** - There is no Avatar.

**Black Firelight: "are you prepared to jump right into the sequel or will you need time to get it together?"** - I'm going to need some time, because I had a new epiphany today that I may or may not encorporate. I don't want to post the first chapter and then wait two months to update, you know? I'm hoping to post Insurgent when I've got most it planned out nicely and several chapters written. Probably the middle-end of May. Maybe sooner..it really just depends. :P That's another reason I created my Tumblr, so I will keep you all updated.

**Tainted Creativity: "He cares and says it before quickly fixing it up at the end with threats."** - It's one of the reasons I love his charater: he shows how he feels rather than says it, most of the time. He's confident in things he does, but not always in things he says. Which is why he often covers up things he says rather than things he does. :P

**Misery's Toll: "I also really liked Katara going bananas. But she still pulled it together and managed to get her mothering on, and sewed Zuko's hands shut and worried about his well-being in the rain."** - Thank you! I felt like Katara was very real in the last chapter, especially. Because you know with everyone she's seen, losing Sokka, and all of that, she's bound to lose her mind a bit. But she does have that inner strength to pull herself together for the sake of someone else. Goes back to her quote: "I'll never turn my back on those who need me."

**knd: "Im curious as to why do you only like Mockingjay?"** - You mean why I _don't_? lol Well, it's a long list, but short and simple: I hated how so many people died, for no apparent reason. I get that war = death but there were two deaths in particular that just didn't have to happen. Like when Rowling killed Fred Weasley..I was furious lol. But anyway, there's more, and if you're still curious, message me. I don't want to spoil everyone with my rant, haha.

And thank you, by the way, for your wonderful compliment! I have to give Suzanne Collins major credit because without her series, I might not have thought of this. I considered doing a Gladiator-like story ages ago, but never followed through. I'm so glad I have with this. It's been so much fun and I'm just thrilled so many of you have liked it. :)

**What happened to the Bonus Features for 400, 600 and soon 800 reviews?"** - I gave two bonus's at 200, I think, so that technically would count for 200 and 400. Those were the prologue for Insurgent and a chapter in Zuko's POV, when he's reaped. Those can be found under the chapter 14 and 19 tabs. For 600, I gave you all a snippet from Insurgent, which can be found in the chapter 29 tab. For 800, you get the character question/answers. :)

**PanPan: "Now i see some of the references and who may be who. All this time i was like who the heck is peeta/gale?"** - I don't really think there is a Peeta and Gale in this. In some respects, Sokka was Gale, but I ship Gale/Katniss so that sounds weird lol. But Gale is Katniss's comfort, her companion, her best friend, someone she knows inside and out. That's how Sokka was to Katara. Zuko is very far from Peeta..and I don't really see anyone in this story that could be referenced to him.

**Candlelight: "Are any other rewards given to the tributes instead of the winning province voting on their chosen tributes for the next year?"** - Yes! I may not have mentioned it before, but they do get a substantial amount of money and extra supplies/food for their entire province. They also go into consideration for being mentors.

**AnnaAza: "Did you go to the Hunger Games movie yet?"** - Yes! I went at midnight for the premiere. :) It's very loyal to the book and I think overall, I liked it more, with the exception of a few scenes in which I preferred in the book. But the annoying star-crossed lovers bit is better in the movie, IMO. I didn't want to choke myself like I did in the book, lol. Peeta was still pretty useless..shocker, lol. The acting and casting choices were perfect. In particular, Alexander Ludwig was MIND BLOWING as Cato. He has a final little speech that inspired me for the next chapter. I honestly cared more about his death than Rue's in the movie..it was just that well acted. I was blown away that I could be moved by an apparent "villain."


	35. Rise and Rise Again

**A/N:** Alright, I know I said two chapters to go...but this was reaching 7,000 words! So I opted to split it in half. There will be two more chapters after this, though technically the last one is more like an epilogue. News about the **sequel** in the bottom note. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Rise and rise again<p>

until lambs become lions." - _Russel Crowe_, Robin Hood

**Chapter 33 - Rise and Rise Again**

We don't have birds in Province 9, except for otter penguins and the dragonhawks the Guards use to deliver messages. I've read about different types in books and scrolls, and I've seen some here in the arena or on the big black and white screen at home. But I didn't realize how many there are here in the arena until I start noticing more and more of the ones with green feathers. Like that annoying one with the cackling music from this morning. Something about that bird, the way it sang and looked, continues to nag at me. It's like when you see something that you remember, but you don't know the memory.

It isn't until they start creeping in one by one—flying overhead and perching on branches, watching me in the trees—do I put the pieces together and know what's coming. That's why the irritating green bird could laugh in its music. And that's why, later in the day, I don't jump when I hear a male's voice coming from one of the bird's mouths.

"She was very afraid," he says. I locate the bird, just off to my right, sitting on a low branch. The bird's beak moves with the words, the voice not exactly as clear and precise as a human but close enough. "My little girl is smart but no fighter. Oh, my precious Song."

Another voice, this one female, coming from another green bird.

"He grew up here in the orphanage," she says. "He's like a son to me—been here since he was five."

"My brother is the best fighter in the world!" Another bird, a child's voice. "He's going to win!"

Too caught up in the actual Games, I forgot about the interviews, and the fact that these little mimickers are green feathered; otherwise I might have realized what was going on sooner. The Capital sends out reporters to interview the families of every tribute before the games. Then, they return to the families of the top twelve. And lastly, the top five. The Capital decides when to share the interviews inside the arena for the tributes. Sometimes it's right after the opening bloodbath. Sometimes it's when there are ten or fifteen tributes left. Two years ago, there were only three alive when the Sparrowkeets finally showed up.

Years ago, when I was about six or seven, the Capital created a new breed of female birds called Mockingkeets. Genetically enhanced, a cross between male mockingbirds and female parakeets, these colorful birds were mutations known for their beautiful melodies and ability to imitate noises and sounds. They spent so much time in human captivity that they eventually learned how to mimic human voices, too. The Capital turned these otherwise sweet birds into submissive weapons, training and sending them out to the non-Fire provinces as spies to intercept rebellious activity.

But the provinces caught on to what they were doing and—with proper care and nurturing—turned the Mockingkeet's loyalty against the Capital, feeding the birds lies and explicit messages to deliver back to the Capital. Province 9 was the only one who wasn't part of this scandal, only because the Capital pulled the Mockingkeets back as soon as they realized the birds couldn't survive our cold climate. It didn't really matter though; we were punished the same as everyone else. The Capital withheld tesserae for three months from all the provinces. And they had all the Mockingkeets exterminated.

Except they were wrong.

At least one had to survive because it bred with other mockingbirds and parakeets. The species was reborn and, eventually, the Sparrowkeets were created from male sparrows mating with female Mockingkeets. The Sparrowkeets inherited the ability to recite long passages of human speech. Because the Capital couldn't let this breed that should not exist survive in nature, they captured them. Extermination would not work, because they could never manage to capture the Mockingkeets—I always admired the birds for that, their ability to avoid capture—and they didn't want to repeat history with the atrocious attempts at spying, so they decided to turn the Sparrowkeets into weapons of torture for the Games instead. Here they replay the torture and pain and—worse than any of that—hope, from all the families, over and over, sometimes for days. The interviews of the top five are always the worst, because that's when families start to get hysterical.

Right now I'm surrounded by at least a hundred and it's like a crescendo. One by one, a new bird starts to talk, until all of them are speaking at once. And it's _loud_. Loud and shrilling, my sensory levels rising to explosion. It's like being trapped in a crowded room full of shouting and talking with no escape. There are so many voices now that all I hear is a jumbled mess of anguish and pain and tears. The sobbing children—brothers and sisters of the tributes—is what snaps my control and makes me take off.

I run blindly through the arena, hard and fast, focusing on the pain in my side rather than the mimicking Sparrowkeets. With the wind rushing past my ears and the distraction of my cramping side, the voices are almost a buzz now, like a swarm of bees. I can't really hear anything other than noise. What I do finally hear, and what makes actually stop running, is a bird from somewhere behind me. Even amongst the chaos of clashing voices, this one stands out, because it's my dad.

"They are my entire world," he says. I whirl around and locate the exact bird speaking in my dad's voice. Watch the beak move, transfixed. "No matter what happens, I want them to know how proud I am and how much I love them."

This must be the first interview, because—I swallow hard—because he's talking as though Sokka is still here.

Suddenly, it's like the rest of the birds know this one is speaking to me, because their voices are hushed and low. Or maybe I'm just so focused that I'm tuning them out. I want to run so I don't have to hear my dad's voice, but at the same time I want nothing more than to hear it because it's been so long since I have.

I walk over to the bird slowly, stuck in a sort of trance, hanging on its every word with a terrible mixture of longing and pain twisting in my stomach.

"Sokka loves to invent things," the bird says, still in my dad's voice. There's a soft laugh. "He always wanted to fly..." I'm only a few feet away now, staring up at the bird. The feathers are the typical fluorescent green, but those eyes are discomforting. Grey and glassy, like all the color has been drained from them.

The interview must switch to the more recent one, and the interviewer must have said something about Sokka, because my dad says something incomprehensible, too choked up for me to understand. Then, I realize, he must know then that Sokka is gone. I catch him say our names—me and Sokka— and then he starts to cry. He _cries_. My dad never cries and I've never heard him so broken in my life.

Suddenly I'm angry. Angry at the world, at the interviewer, at the Capital, at this wretched bird. I debate throwing my dagger—but it's the only concrete weapon I have—so instead I pull out a little water and fling an ice dagger at the Sparrowkeet; it flies off the branch, missing my attack, and disappears in a swarm of more chattering birds.

"Come back!" I scream after it. "Don't you fly away from me! Coward…" my voice fades as I catch a glimpse of something hidden in the undergrowth. Something small. Man-made. Something that doesn't belong in the arena.

The birds are so loud that I actually swat a hand through the air as I walk over and scoop up the small object. It's smooth and hard, the color of ivory, but tainted with the colors of earth and dirt. A little faded, like it's survived through a few battles. My fingers brush over the surface and I feel my heart sink.

It's Aang's bison whistle. The token must have fallen out of his robes when he was killed. He'll have been buried by now, or whatever they do to send off the dead in Province 10. Somehow this seems terribly unfair and wrong. He deserves to have been put to rest with this token.

My fingers curl around the whistle. Fury boils up in me so quickly that I lash out at the only thing I can—the Sparrowkeets. I take out a couple with some more ice daggers before reason forces me to stop. There are too many and killing them isn't going to bring back Aang or return his whistle. Killing the birds won't stop them from taunting me with their voices, either.

_There's nothing you can do._

The anger fades just as quickly as it came and I'm wrapped in such longing and despair that it's too much for me to handle. I curl up on the ground and press my hands to my ears; a hand wrapped tightly around the dagger, the other gripping the bison whistle. My hands shake from applying such pressure and my ears hurt, but if I can just press hard enough, maybe I can tune out the voices. I bury my face into the cool earth so no one can see the tears slipping down my cheeks.

I don't know how long I lay like this, curled up and withered, but at some point—and I don't know what makes me do it—I blow into the whistle, a soft three note tune. It's barely audible, but the reaction is instantaneous. Rising over the chattering Sparrowkeets is the sound of some other bird, playing back the tune I just blew into the whistle. It gets louder and louder, echoing through the arena in a clear, beautiful imitation.

Mockingkeets. There must be some here, hidden in the arena. I blow into the whistle again. For a moment it's eerily quiet, and then the Mockingkeets sing back to me. The Sparrowkeets are utterly still and stoic, completely silent. When the Mockingkeets finish, the Sparrowkeets burst out into voices tenfold, ten times louder than before. Every child's plea is magnified, the family's heartbreak even more pronounced and terrible. I press my palms harder into my ears because I know interrupting them was probably a mistake on my part. Who knows how long they will keep this up?

_It has to end sometime_, I think desperately. _Everything comes to an end._

I must have fallen asleep because suddenly I bolt upright, instantly awake, slashing out with the dagger. The movement sends waves of pain through my body; my muscles rigid from being in such a confined and tight position for what must have been awhile. Sweat coats my forehead and the back of my neck, my face clammy and warm. I think I might have had my usual nightmare, but I can't remember.

My whole body shakes when I stand up; it feels like I've been beaten over and over, both physically and emotionally. The Capital sends in the Sparrowkeets to mess with our minds, drive us to the brink of desperation and insanity. I remember seeing a girl bang her head against a rock until her skull split in half because of them. At the time I didn't understand how someone could do that to themselves, but now, I almost do. The memories, the pain, and the overwhelming amount of voices can drive even the sanest person over the edge.

I shake my head. No. I won't lose myself like that girl. I owe it to my dad and brother, and to Province 9. To Pakku and the rest of my team. They didn't work hard to prepare me for these Games for me to just give up now.

I push my mind to that place where I feel nothing and focus. I start tracking, like I would back at home with Sokka, putting more effort into it this time rather than search blindly for the prince in the arena. I scoop up some leaves and crinkle them into the air to see which way the wind is blowing. I look for footprints, signs of human contact in the foliage, anything out of the norm. Scaling up a tree, I climb as high as I can until I can see the flags.

Three gold. One red. _Of course everyone is still alive_. That's what I think first, but really I climbed up here to judge the distance between myself at the Base. Couple miles, I'd guess. Depends how fast I'm moving.

I stare at the flags longer than I should before forcing myself back down. My hand slips on a branch and my palm skirts across a sharp bit of wood. It's not painful but irritating, drawing just a little blood. I keep going. When I hit the ground, I wanted to examine it closer but something feels off. Like maybe I'm being watched. I barely breathe and focus on listening carefully.

That's the problem: everything is quiet. Too quiet. I can't hear any insects or birds, not a single buzz or crunching of leaves from some passing creature. It's like everything has died. I blow into the whistle, expecting to hear the comforting reply from the Mockingkeets, but there's nothing.

Without warning, Suki smashes through the trees in a cloud of black. She's running straight towards me, wielding two golden fans that look extremely alarming and sharp. I pocket the whistle and the canteen snaps open under my fingers. One hand gripping the dagger, I send a stream of ice daggers at her with the other.

She doesn't even try to avoid them—an icy dagger slices across her cheek, but she just shakes her head and grits her teeth. She's not slowing down. I brace myself, splitting my water into two whips while still holding onto the dagger, but Suki barrels right past me like I'm not even here. Her face is covered in ash and sweat. Judging from her labored breathing, she's been running for a while. If she's not running toward me, what is she running _from_?

The smell hits first, the smell too unmistakable to be anything else, and then the trembling of the ground. Before I can react, an enormous ball of fire smashes to the ground just in front of me. I jump back and land hard on my backside, crawling backwards on my hands to get away from the flames and sparks. I whip my head up in the direction it came from just in time to see a huge wave of fire coming my way, taking down all the trees and everything in its path. And all I can think is how similar it is to a wave of water, and how _wrong_ it is that it's fire.

After a panicked second of shock I get to my feet and bolt after Suki, stumbling frantically with no other thought but staying alive. The sound of the approaching fire is like an impending doom, making me run faster, but that's not all. More balls of fire are being launched toward me from somewhere I can't see, knocking trees to the ground and giving me no easy way to run straight. I leap and duck over the falling branches, keeping my eye on Suki's dark figure. She's a smart girl—I've learned that the hard way—and if she doesn't want to face the fire, I'll trust whatever direction she's heading is a good one.

I take a sharp right, and a huge gold flame lands in front of me like a fallen meteor, exploding into the ground and sending me flying backwards. I hit the ground with a _thud_, branches and leaves crashing on me. I shove them off, coughing, blinking my watery eyes until I see Suki, and then I'm off again.

She must have slowed down because I manage to catch up to her, only about fifteen or so feet behind. There's a hiss and then a raging fire hits the ground and surrounds us like a coiling snake—it happens so fast that I slam into Suki's back. She barely notices and our gazes lock on the only direction we can go, the single opening in the ring of fire. I tuck my head and barrel through, covering my nose and mouth with a sleeve. My eyes are watering terribly; the world distorted and tainted a terrible shade of grey from the smoke.

I don't know how long we run before we break through a clearing, the fire licking our heels, when Suki makes a beeline toward the Base. I see it all through hazy vision, like looking through the bottom of a glass bottle—the golden phoenix, the flags, the lake. This is where it all began—and, judging by the fire starting to encircle the Base—this is where it will end.

The lake is too far, and even if I could wield all that water—which I can't—there is too much fire. The pain in my side is so awful that I'm afraid I'm going to be sick. I have to find somewhere I can stop, somewhere relatively safe. Suki is running toward the golden phoenix—who am I to argue?—so I take off after her. The statue is huge, lifted high off the ground. I scramble up the tail a bit sloppily; the golden metal is hot under the sun.

Suki lies on top, near the neck of the phoenix, gasping on her back. I keep my eyes on her, hunched over on all fours, gulping down air. I'm too tired and weak to attack her first, and she doesn't seem likely to come after me yet, either. Not when there's—the fire! I almost forgot about it! I whip my head around to face it, but it's stopped. The entire base is encircled in the gold flames but it's not moving forward.

It's a cage of fire, trapping us inside the Base. The fire was never meant to kill us—it was meant to _herd_ us. To force us back here, which I should have predicted. The final battles are always fought at the Base because it's an open battlefield. Easiest for the Elites to record everything. The tributes either end up here on their own, or the Elites force them here by manipulating the arena.

_Don't want anyone missing the finale_, I think bitterly.

Just as I put all this together, Suki must as well, because I turn around just in time to dodge a golden fan; it clashes against the phoenix, sending an echoing _ring_ across the arena. With my slower than usual reflex, and if Suki was up to par, she would have sliced my head off. But we're both so tired, so exhausted, and she's been running even longer than me.

She swings an arm—I deflect it with a grunt. I try to grab her with my water, but even now, she's still pretty agile. And my aim is terrible right now. My eyes are still burning, everything is blurry, and I'm about to throw up. My concentration is slipping like sand through my fingertips.

Suki jumps, twists, and a booted foot clips under my chin. I stumble back and a golden fan strikes me across the face. The blow is a hard, sharp pain. Immediately Hama's voice is in my head.

_The victor isn't always the best fighter. It's the last person standing. The person who gets up more than they fall. Rise and rise again, Katara, and you will win. _

_Rise and rise again._

Suki takes advantage of my momentary blackout and gets me by the throat. I blink back stars and bring a foot up; she flies backwards with a kick to the chest, releasing me. I stash the dagger in my boot and form two water whips. Suki sags back, breathing hard. I wait for her attack, taking advantage of her lapse to catch my own breath.

"I can do this all day," she says in a throaty, tired voice. "They trained me for this."

"You should save your breath," I say. "You're going to need it to fight me."

She bars her teeth, mouth bloody—did I do that?—and says, "You, no. The other two…probably. I'm going to die anyway, but not before I finish this." Her voice hardens and the expression on her face is like nothing I've ever seen—wild, rabid, and hungry. Her head whips up, like she's addressing the sky. "I can finish this!" she snarls.

Without much more warning than that, she runs at me full speed. My hand jerks out before I can order my brain to do anything. Water surges forward not at Suki, but at her feet; the water freezes, cementing her ankles to the golden metal. Her body weight is thrown forward from the momentum, but the ice keeps her planted. Suki's eyes flash to mine in surprise. She sees what I'm doing—her grey eyes widen, she holds up her hands—but I'm already in the air.

My foot smashes into her face.

I land on my stomach, hard. The impact jars me, distorting the arena sideways. My face hits and bounces off the metal so hard that I'm afraid I might have broken teeth. Suki is struggling to get free and the metal is scorching under my face.

_Rise,_ I order myself.

Shaking, I start to get up when, still looking sideways, I see the crackling of power, a flash of white light. Lightning, coming straight toward me.

No, straight toward the phoenix.

I barely manage to throw myself off the golden statue when the lightning strikes the metal. The impact explodes in my ears and rumbles the ground, the electricity in the air raising the hair on my body and making me shiver all over. My hands automatically fly to my ears as I lie on the ground in the fetal position, twitching from the aftermath of the lightning hitting so close.

"Well, I didn't expect _you_ to be here so soon," a voice finally says from somewhere behind. The first thing I register is the voice, and then I'm horrified that she's talking to me. But when I scramble to my hands and knees and look around, no one is here.

"I thought your strategy was to hide? Province 12 doesn't seem to know how to do anything else," says Azula.

My ears have stopped ringing long enough that I now hear the distance in the princess's voice. She has to be on the other side of the phoenix. I must have jumped off the backside to avoid her blow. What if she doesn't even realize I'm here? If she's not talking to me, she must be talking to Suki.

My stomach actually drops

_Suki_.

I left her on the phoenix when Azula's lightning hit—how is she not dead? I half stumble, half crawl toward the still ringing and electrically charged phoenix and peak around the side. The princess has the girl by the throat, but Suki is barely conscious. Her short brown hair is frazzled and frayed at the ends, her skin scorched, most of the black clothing burnt off. Her eyes are halfway closed. She looks like she's been skewered for dinner.

There's no way Suki is going to survive this, I realize, with a sort of odd numbness. Strange, I thought I'd feel…not happy, exactly, but relief.

I don't feel it at all.

Suki must realize the state she's in, too, because she spits a mouthful of blood in Azula's face. The princess gives a little shriek and throws Suki to the ground. The impact causes something to spill from her robes—a pendant of some kind.

The effort to spit must have been too much, because Suki makes no effort to run away or fight. Azula wipes the blood from her mouth delicately with the back of her hand and scowls at the girl before her. She steps forward and rips the necklace off Suki. It's too small for me to tell what it is, but I can tell it's circular and white and small.

"What an interesting token," says Azula, examining the pendant with delicate pale fingers. "Hmm…where have I seen this before?"

Suki says nothing. She just groans when Azula presses a booted foot on her shoulder, pinning her down. "That's right—it's the symbol for the rebels, am I correct? I remember Father telling me about the uprising in Twelve. Let me tell you something"—Azula bends down and grabs a fistful of brown hair, bringing her mouth inches away from Suki's ear—"I know all about you and your plans. But I'm afraid this is a game you are not good enough to play."

Suki slurs out something unintelligible and tries to roll away but Azula just laughs and throws her back down, face first.

"Wearing such a token is treason, you know. The symbol itself is forbidden—a sign of rebellion against the Capital, punishable by execution. But oh, there's a _ceremony_. A long one, with terribly boring speeches and last words." Azula waves a hand in a dismissive gesture. "I just don't have _time_ for that and it's such a hassle. And really, you don't deserve such an honor."

Suki starts to cough violently, blood spilling onto the grass. She gets to her hands and knees, shaking all over. I can't believe it, but I actually feel sorry for her. Seeing her like this makes me realize she's nothing more than a pawn in the game—just like me. But the sick, twisted thing is that if I want to live, I can't do anything to save her.

No wonder all the victors appear to hate themselves. I sort of hate me, too.

"She thought you'd come," says Suki. From her position on the ground, she lifts her head and grins at the princess. It's a mad, rabid sort of grin. Blood drips down her mouth, coating her teeth. "Your little...bitch. She's dead, you know. Easy kill."

Azula's eyes harden, her jaw setting in such a manner that I'm shocked to see that the mannerism reminds me so much of Zuko. She takes a step forward, towering over Suki.

"You may kill me," says Suki, coughing up more blood, "but I'll never be as dead as you. Twelve will rise again."

"Only, perhaps, after it burns to the ground. Just like last time," says Azula. She's calm and collected again. "I'm going to spare you the long story and tell you the ending. It didn't end so well for Twelve and you know what—?" Azula reaches down with blue lit fingertips and knots a hand in Suki's hair, the other gripping her neck. "It's not going to end well for you, either."

With a sharp jerk, the princess snaps Suki's head to the side. The warrior from twelve drops to the ground, instantly dead, the edges of her brown hair singed with blue sparks. Azula examines her nails and gives a tired sigh, somehow managing to look _bored_. Then, she punches out a hand, and Suki's body is submerged in blue fire until all that's left is a pile of charred ashes.

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><p><strong>AN:** If you follow me on Tumblr, then you already know, but if you don't, here is the news: **The Black Games is going to be a trilogy!** I was struggling to plan Insurgent because I had two major plots going on when I realized the problem is that I was trying to shove two stories into one. So now that won't be a problem! The sequel to The Black Games will now be called **The Rise of One**. I'm very excited and can't wait to start writing it. (It's still in the planning stages) Anyway, hope you liked this chapter. I wanted to somehow incorporate the idea of Mockingjays so I created a new breed to fit the Avatar world. :)

I feel like I should just go ahead and give you this tiny snippet from the next chapter since you guys have been so patient and wonderful:

_"I can still feel the after effects of his lips on mine—a strange, tingling sensation, like I've gotten a taste of fire."_

*cue fangirl squees*

**Review Responses:**

**EbunnyLove: "This story is giving me great ideas to incorperate in some of my upcoming writing, as far as writing style goes. For that I'm amazingly thankful. You write raw emotion so well."** - Thank you! I'm so glad I gave you ideas! I've found that reading stories really helped shape how I write. It's amazing what you can learn just by reading. :P

**whisperslove: "I have to believe that the ending will be very upsetting"** - I have to admit the ending of the next chapter will be the one that shocks/upsets people. Not so much the ending of the final chapter/epilogue. But I do warn everyone now to prepare themselves..the next one has a brutal ending.

**ILostTime: "Did you read the whole trilogy of Suzanne Collins? If that's the case, can you recommend it ?"** - I've read the first two and bits of the third. I would recommend the first. Not a big fan of the second and third. lol I've found, and many have agreed, that Mockingjay will leave you very upset and angry.

**WriteroftheRevolution: "I feel like I am beyond emotionally connected to these characters."** - I'm so glad to hear you say that! I really wanted this story to feel emotionally impacting. That's one of the things I think The Hunger Games lacked; Katniss doesn't really get attached in any way to anyone in the games except Peeta and Rue. I wish there was more development with her and the others so I would have cared more when they died. I did care about Cato, shockingly.

**GreenThumbs: "was the movie exactly like the book?"** - Pretty darn close. They cut some things out, obviously, but it's very similar.

**AnnaAza: "You are terrific at writing battle scenes, and I think they're pretty damn hard to write."** - Well thank you! I struggle with them; I find them very hard to write as well. Especially ATLA fight scenes because you have to write bending. Bah.

**iminlovewithhistory: "do you ship katniss and gale or katniss and peeta?"** - I ship Katniss and Gale. I'm in the minority, lol. Nothing against Peeta, I just prefer Katniss with Gale.

**Sisters from hell: "I usually stray away from AU's. I don't know why, but I prefer canon compliant stories. But this...this is a masterpiece."** - Wow, thank you very much! I used to stay away from AU's as well. Love Thy Enemy by RedNovember sort of changed my outlook on AU's lol. I'm still pretty picky with them, though. What's most important to me with AU's is that the character's are still recognizable from what we saw in the show.

**"I wanted to ask you if you ever read Battle Royale(the book or the manga)?"** - I haven't yet! I've heard of it but haven't been able to read it. Too many on my current list. :P

**PyschMajor101: " I really do hope you haven't turned her (Azula) into a complete monster."** - Lol oh gosh, I hope you don't hate this chapter now! Even how I wrote her here though, I don't think she's a monster. She's been raised a certain way and it's been drilled into her since she can remember. I would probably say she suffers from an antisocial personality disorder (a sociopath) as well. It doesn't make her a monster, just a girl who needs some help.

**"There can only be one winner, allowing two in the novels just seemed unrealistic to me."** - I think it's _how_ there came to be two winners that was unrealistic. The berries, the fake romance, blah. Having two winners seems like you just don't want to kill everyone but one. So if you're going to allow two, it better be a damn good reason. :P (And I just didn't buy the romantic angle being so effective..but ah well.)

**"Though I'm not entirely sure why you had Kya killed at Katara's birth instead of having her murdered by, I dunno, some fire nation guard for disobeying some rule."** - Unless I mistyped it somewhere, Kya died when Katara was a year old. (At least that's what it says in chapter one, lol) In another fic I had Kya die at childbirth, so if I accidently put that somewhere else in this story, I apologize. But she does have a little backstory. You're right that Kya's death in the series shapes Katara, and that's something I had to play around with. I didn't want to give her the exact personality in the series because of that fact alone.

**anon: "I like how Katara has only Zuko but with thoughts of Sokka."** - Thanks! Yeah, it's one of the factors that I think makes their relationship so strong in this story. It's one thing to find someone attractive and find them charming, etc. but to really depend on someone and trust them is, in my opinion, a much stronger foundation for a relationship.

**AwesomeOliver: "The only thing I'm skeptical about is the fact that Katara is having so much trouble with learning how to heal. In the series, she's basically a natural."** - Yeah, this is one of the things I changed for a few reasons. One, it would just be too easy if Katara could heal herself and others all the time. Two, she was more in touch with her Waterbending in the series than she is in this. She struggles with it mentally the same way Zuko did with lightning in the series. :) Also, thank you for the book rec! I'll have to check it out!

**UVERazn: "Erm, I couldn't keep this in, but kumquats are orange fruits that are actually really sweet and sour not bitter"** - Oh yes, I know lol. These are ocean kumquats based from the Avatar world. They're featured in The Puppetmaster.

**DestinyCrusader: "I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but I love how Zuko is so...ZUKO."** - Thank you! I've been so worried about screwing up his character. He's so moody his personality jumps all over the place lol. Katara is probably the hardest though, since I'm writing in first person. Third is so much easier..*sighs*

**"You try to respond to as mnay reviews as you can, and that shows you care about your fans."** - I do! I appreciate all of you guys so much. It makes me enjoy writing so much more to know people are enjoying something I've written. I try to respond to reviews that are questions and ones I feel need a comment. :P I read all of them, though and appreciate each and every one.

**"When it comes to planning, do you plan out every little detail?"** - I usually know the beginning and end right off the bat. When I started this, I kept THG next to me so I could get the beginning with the same pace. Certain scenes are planned, and major plot points, but a lot of things just happen, like you mention. For example..some things I knew I wanted to happen: Jet killing Sokka and thus Katara killing Jet, dragons, the peace offering, Toph offering an escape, Katara receiving her necklace. I knew Katara and Zuko had to team up at some point..but I wasn't sure how they would find each other. Certain pieces of dialogue come to me as well. Like, everything for this story is saved in my BG folder, and there's two Word documents that are just quotes and random bits of dialogue. Sometimes I come up with a line that one of the characters might say, and a scene ends up being written around it. Writing is a fickle thing, haha.

As for The Rise of One, I'm trying to outline the entire thing. *crosses fingers* Outline the main events of each chapter, that is. Makes writing a lot easier to have a basis of where the story is going. So far I'm at chapter 10. :)

**Gryffygirl: "what inspired you to write? Do you always write? Have you written before?"** - I started fanfiction about..three years ago? Something like that. I don't remember how but I came across and fell in love with the idea of fanfiction. I had never heard of it before! All I would read was Dramiones for the longest time, lol. I don't even know why..I never shipped them when I read the books. I just liked the idea of reading about them in a fanfic. I always hated the ending of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, so I decided to write a version of that in Hermione's point of view with a Dramione twist. So I did! (It's called Changing Fate, by the way. It's under construction right now.) And then I came across ATLA fanfiction on here and it was instant love. :)

I love writing and would love to publish a book someday, possibly in the YA genre. I think fanfiction is really great practice for that as well.

**"Legend of Korra. When does it come on and what channel?"** - April..14th I think? Probably on Nick. Go to Tumblr and you'll find all sorts of goodies under "the legend of korra" tag. :)

**Character Q/A**

"Katara, If you had a chance to go back in time would you still have offered yourself for the games?" - Yes..but I would have done some things differently.

"Katara, if you had to fall in love with someone in the games who would it be?" - If I _had_ to? That makes it sound terrible!

"Katara, if you had to bring one dead tribute alive, who would it be?" - Sokka, obviously!

"Katara, Would you rather kill Azula or Suki?" - Suki is already dead..

"Katara, If you had died instead of Sokka, who would you have prefered to win, Zuko or your brother? - My brother

"Zuko, don't you think you should probably try to eliminate Suki first?" - Azula is my number one threat and concern.

Zuko, if you had to fall in love with someone in the games who would it be?" - Myself

"Zuko, would you die for katara or like jump in front of lightning?" - Uh..

" Zuko, do you have any fond memories of you childhood?" - Almost every memory with my mother

"Zuko, do you think you will end up having to kill Katara?" - I don't know

"Toph, why did you come back for katara?" - Instinct..Good feelin' about her

"Azula, who's the better fight? Zuko or Suki?" - Better? Zuko is a better fight. I love fighting him. Always entertaining.

"Azula, What do you think about Zuko and Katara?" - Not much

"Azula, do you think that if it came down to you and your brother, would you actually be able to go through with killing him?" - Hmm..probably, but then I'd be terribly bored.

"Yue, what did you feel when katara volentiered to take your place?" - Relief..as selfish as that sounds. But respect more than anything.


	36. The Last Agni Kai

**A/N:** As promised, I am updating despite it being 3 AM! Please heed my **warning**: this is an emotional chapter that will probably leave you in fits. **Read at your own discretion! **And when you have time, because it's LONG.

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><p>"I'll probably end up in flames before the end of the night Watch me burn in the fire, watch me bid you goodbye.<p>

Your words fall right off the page like they fall on deaf ears You know that it's over, nothing left for you here." - _Up in Flames_, Icon for Hire

**Chapter 34 - The Last Agni Kai**

Horrified at what I had just witnessed, I bite my tongue until I taste blood in my mouth so I don't scream. A canon goes off a moment later; the sound snaps something in me and I stumble to my feet, turn, and run away from the crazy princess. I head toward the lake. If I have to go through a wall of fire so be it. Without an ocean I stand no chance at all.

No longer concealed by the phoenix, I'm running in the open field. The exposure—surely the princess will see me now—makes me run harder. I pump my arms, urging my tired limbs to go faster. If I go through the fire fast enough, than maybe it won't hurt as bad. The lake is just outside the ring.

I'm about a hundred yards away from the fire when the flames roar with life. My feet skid to a halt as a body barrels through the fire with a gigantic leap through the air. He hits the ground hard, but keeps his balance, landing in a predatory crouch. When his head snaps up, those gold eyes find mine. Our gazes lock so intensely that the rest of the world drains of color and fades away. In one of those surreal, strange moments, I'm hit with a wave of emotion so powerful that I stop thinking—I just stand there, gaping at him.

And then I'm running as fast as I can.

Zuko barely has time to hold out his arms when I crash into him. Our bodies cling together so hard that the prince stumbles back a little, knocked off balance. Even though I saw his flag and knew he must be alive, part of my brain irrationally had to see him with my own eyes to believe it. The instant relief I feel is so overwhelming that it momentarily stuns me. I bury my face into the crook of his neck, my hands clutching the fabric at his back. I take a deep breath, inhaling his scent—sweat and rust and Zuko.

_Here's your proof_. The smell, the feeling of his arms wrapping tightly around me—now I know without a doubt that he's _alive_. He's real.

Zuko's hands, which have snaked their way into my hair, slide around to grab either side of my face as he pulls back to look at me. Liquid gold pierces brilliantly through the messy hair that brushes across his eyes. Mouth set in a hard line, his expression is somewhere between angry, incredulous, and something else I can't quite decipher.

His words come out in an angry growl, "You're so stupid." And then, before I can even brace myself, he pulls my face up to his and kisses me, hard in the mouth. I'm too stunned and surprised to react at first, but then, suddenly, my lips start to move with his, mirroring his anger and passion. It's demanding and desperate, the kind of kiss that you save for your last. He tastes like salt and ash and, well, _fire_. His lips are surprisingly as soft as they are firm, and the way they mold against mine sends warmth throughout my entire body.

"So stupid," Zuko murmurs against my mouth.

He kisses me again, just as hard, and then pulls me back abruptly. It all happens so suddenly that for a moment, I'm afraid I might have imagined it all. But, no. I can still feel the after effects of his lips on mine—a strange, tingling sensation, like I've gotten a taste of fire. I never expected my first kiss—my first _real_ kiss—to burn in a way that doesn't hurt.

Still holding my face gently, Zuko lowers his forehead to mine. "I thought it was your canon. I thought you were dead," he says softly, sounding both strangled and awestruck.

All I can think is—_Do you know Azula is here? Do you realize how dangerous this is?_ But I don't say either of these things because it feels like I'm choking. I blink, and suddenly the back of my throat aches from holding back tears—tears of pain, relief, happiness, anger. Everything wound up inside me, threatening to boil over. The sudden rush, and power, of the emotions I'm feeling is so intense that I actually tense all over, going rigid.

Zuko suddenly stills, whether because of my sudden stiffness or a new revelation, I don't know. He pulls back abruptly and just looks at me with that same wild emotion. The world fades again, only for a moment, but the moment drags out longer than any moment ever has. Then, like a needle popping a bubble, he blinks and that look transforms into horror. His hands slide down to my shoulders and he shakes me. "What are you doing here?" he says, like he only just now realizes this. "You agreed to stay behind if you lost!"

"I know," I whisper miserably.

"Why did you do it?" he demands. "You can't break the rules of an Agni Kai!"

"I broke them _for_ you." My voice comes out angrier than I want, but I'm suddenly so frustrated that I have to explain this. Sokka would know. He would know why I was here.

"Why?" Zuko sounds just as frustrated as I do, maybe even a little confused.

_How can you not know this? Why are you making me say it?_

"I had to find you," I all but shout at him.

Zuko stares at me, utterly lost, the emotions sliding off his face like paint running down a canvas. "You—came for me?" he says with barely concealed shock.

"Of course I did," I say, exasperated.

"Well, look at this—enemies and traitors, working together. Tell me, Zuko, which one are you?"

The prince stiffens, only for a moment, and then pushes me away from him. I suddenly feel like cold, freezing water has been dumped over my body. We turn to face Azula—caught up in the moment, I nearly forgot about her. She's standing with her hands behind her back, an almost innocent expression on her face. It's very convincing and I might buy it if I hadn't watched her snap a girl's neck five minutes ago.

Azula's eyes shift to me briefly and then focus back on the prince. "A peasant? _That's_ who you choose to ally with?"

"Leave her alone," Zuko hisses. "This is between you and me, Azula. It always has been. It's not about her."

"Of course it's about her," says Azula. She starts to move forward—Zuko and I both automatically fall back into a fighting stance—and seeing our reaction, she comes to an abrupt halt. Her eyes flash momentarily, but then she blinks and holds up her hands in a surrendering gesture. Her lips twitch into a smirk. "Zuko, do you really think I'm going to fight you? Do you really think _Father_ would allow that?"

"Why wouldn't I believe exactly that? That's why we're here."

Azula gives him a patronizing look. "You had to learn your lesson someday, didn't you? Father wanted to banish you for what you did, but he spared you so you could reclaim your honor in the arena. Surely you knew—with this being your last eligible year—that he would select you as tribute."

_Banish_ him for something he did? I'm stunned. What did he do?

"Interesting theory, but that doesn't explain why _you're_ here," says Zuko, gesturing toward his sister with a slight tip of his chin.

"Father sent me in as extra protection to make sure you came out alive, of course."

"That's a lie," Zuko snarls. "You tried to kill me!"

"_Kill_ you?" Azula lets out a piercing ring of laughter that could shatter glass. "Don't be so dramatic, Zuko. Why would I want to do that?"

"I can think of a few reasons," the prince grounds out.

"If you're implying the cr—"

"That's exactly what I'm implying. Face it, Azula. You might be the favorite but you're _not_ the heir. The throne belongs to me."

Azula's pale face shifts into something very frightening and cold—I swear the ground starts to tremble, the arena frosting over—but the expression is gone in a blink of the eye, replaced with a cool mask of indifference. She takes a deep breath.

"I know you haven't made the smartest choices in the Games," she says, sounding deceivably calm. "Not allying with me, opposing the other Fire tributes. Her," she adds, gesturing to me with her chin "—for example. But I also realize you've been blinded by the idea that there can only be one victor. You're a one track mind, Zuko, you always have been."

"No. There can only be _one_ victor."

"What makes you so sure?"

Zuko hesitates. "That's how it's always been," he finally says, though not very convincingly.

Azula does not miss the shift of his tone. Her lips, which are too red, like the color of paled blood, turn up in the corners. "Oh? What about Li and Lo?"

"That's different. That was the Quarter Duels."

"But there was more than one victor, wasn't there?"

"The Quarter Duels always have special rules."

He's right, of course. My dad has told me about them, but he's only been alive to watch one. The Quarter Duels are held every twenty-fifth year since the first Black Games, which means they will be held later this year. I vaguely remember Joo Dee talking about it, but I haven't given it much thought since I've been in here. How can I worry about another game when I'm already stuck in one now?

The princess taps her booted foot, looking impatient. Dressed in regal black and gold armor—a new set, I note—she looks terribly out of place, far too beautiful and frightening and powerful to be in the Black Games. She huffs, blowing back a piece of dark hair that dangles in front of her face. "Don't you _want_ to come home, Zuko?" she says. "To see Father? What about Uncle and Lu Ten?"

Zuko gasps, a wounded, terrible sort of sound, and his arms drop fractionally. Then he seems to gather himself. His arms rise again, higher this time, and his fists clench. "Shut up!" he bellows. "There can only be _one_ victor, Azula, you're lying!"

"No, Zuko," she scolds patiently. "You and I will _both_ be the victor. We can share the glory together and make Father proud. You will gain your honor back."

"Funny, I never remember you liking to share before."

"What can I say? I'm feeling generous."

"Why did you say this is about me?" I blurt out suddenly. "Before, you said this was about me."

Azula blinks. Then, slowly, she tilts her head to look at me, giving me her attention for the first time. Her eyes, the same color as Zuko's, hold me where I am with that same intensity. "Because, Nine, you are the only person standing in my brother's path to redemption," she says simply. "Once you die, either by my hand or his, we can go _home_." She seems to direct the last word to Zuko, a purr to her voice, caressing, even.

I stare at her, looking for some sort of deception, but her face is expressionless—idly I wonder how anyone could ever detect a lie from her. If anything, those pretty lips are quirked up in the corners again, bemused or pleased, I can't tell. I sneak a glance at Zuko, and wish I hadn't.

I don't like that look.

"Zuko," I start hesitantly, "you know she's playing you. There can only be one victor in the Black Games." Even as I say the words, I know he can't hear me. He's looking past Azula's shoulder, fixated on a point far away, that only he can see.

"If I win, my father will finally accept me," he says, so quietly that I'm almost sure none of the Watchers are able to record it. "I am his loyal son."

He drops his arms, and my heart sinks. A second later he reaches a hand into his robes and pulls out his golden crown. It catches the sunlight, reflecting back in all its glory. The reflected light hits his eyes, and that's when I realize I've lost. I have seen those gold eyes filled with varied emotions, but nothing burns brighter than the look he has now. Not even the look on his face after he kissed me. None of it compares to the longing and desire he's harboring when he looks at his crown.

I can feel Azula watching, grinning, satisfied with how this is turning out. I wonder how long it will be before she sticks the knife right through Zuko's back. Maybe she's telling the truth, but somehow, I can't imagine that she is. I want to believe Fire Lord Ozai would allow two victors just for the sake of them being his children, but I have nothing decent of him to compare that kind of compassion with.

I just don't know. Either way, it's not for my benefit. I'm still in the same position, and at the end of the day, still against the fire prince and his sister. I just don't see how this can end well for me. If I win, Zuko will be gone, and the world loses their prince. If he wins, then I'll be dead, and my dad will have no one.

"Dispose of her Zuko, and we can go home," Azula orders. "I will not take the honor away from your disposal of your subservient, but if you refuse, I will act accordingly."

I think, suddenly, of Mai, and how Azula quite ruthlessly killed her without batting an eye. Is this how the Capital treated those they consider beneath them? Like they owned them and the right to do away with them as they please?

"You would not want to displease Father, would you?"

Zuko says nothing. I expect the princess to scold him for ignoring her, but she only watches him with a tilt to her head. She's still waiting patiently, no doubt reassured, that Zuko will turn on me any moment.

Time is running out. I look imploringly at the prince, but he's still gazing down at his crown, desperate and agonized. If Azula is lying to him, and there can only be one victor, can he beat her on his own? I don't think I've ever seen either of them at their full potential. What if she isn't lying, though? What if Zuko truly has a chance of returning to his throne?

_Oh Sokka_, I think miserably. _Where are you?_ He would know what to do. I'm no mental strategist. I don't have the ability to make decisions without involving my emotions—which is dangerous, he would say. But I can't help it.

_Try, Katara! Think logically,_ he would say. So I do. I try to imagine a world without me and I see my dad, alone and sad, wrapped in grief he will never be able to satiate. Province 9 does not change. It goes on, living and evolving just the same, still isolated and guarded, ran by the Guards. And every year, a new boy and girl is selected as tribute. I let that image fade away, and then I try to imagine a world without Prince Zuko—and I can't. The picture refuses to form in my mind.

And just like that, I know.

My fingers reach up and brush my mother's pendant. I swallow hard and take a deep breath. "My Dad used to say that sometimes, surrendering is not a weakness, but a strength in disguise," I finally say.

Zuko turns to look at me, blinking. "What?"

"_I'd rather you die at my hand than at Azula's. And so would you."_

I move to stand in front of him, taking a dangerous route by placing my back to the princess. "If I'm going to die," I whisper quietly, "I'd rather you do it than her. Please."

"What?" Zuko says exasperatedly. He starts to back away from me, but I grab his arm and halt him.

"I want to win, but I don't _need_ to. Not like you do." My voice is starting to shake, so I plunge on before I break down. "Just make it quick. I'm tired of this game."

Zuko stares at me, but I just stare blankly back at him. "You can't be serious," he murmurs.

"Even if there could be two victors, it could never be me and you." The lingering though in the back of my mind finally spills out. It hurts so much more when I actually say it. "My life is not as valuable as yours. Mine does not matter—not like yours."

_And I won't make you choose between your home and me_.

"Your life matters to me," he says softly, exasperated, eyes wide. "It mattered to your brother."

My mouth goes dry and all I can think is _I wish that was enough_. Zuko's gaze drops to my throat. He lifts his hand and, hesitantly, brushes his thumb across my pendant. "This is who you are," he murmurs, seemingly talking more to himself than to me. Then, without warning, he shoves the crown into my chest, forcing me to hold it. He then grabs me by the elbow and steers me out of the way so he can face his sister.

"You miscalculated," he says to her. "I am my mother's son more than I am my father's, and more than I am your brother. You always lie, and I know you're lying now—Father would never allow two victors in the Black Games. There's only one victor, just like there's only one heir to the throne. And there's only one solution to it all. The only fight that's going to happen is between me and you, the fight that was always meant to be." Zuko reaches over his shoulder and pulls out a broadsword. Fire erupts from his wrist, slithering down the length of the blade. He holds it out, pointing the sharp, burning tip at his sister. "I challenge you to an Agni Kai, Azula."

"What are you doing?" I gasp, gaping at him.

He gives me a fleeting glance from the corner of his eyes. "You'll have your chance for a rematch, but I told you—this is my fight."

_No!_

The princess's eyes flash in anger and surprise—I'm sure my face is not much different. She glares at him, her pretty face scrunching up in disgust. "You really a weak failure, just like Father always believed."

"And you really are a lying monster, just like Mother always believed."

And suddenly, chaos is unleashed. Zuko shoves me out of the way as Azula shoots a wave of blue fire at him with a feral growl. The prince counters the fire by slicing it in half with his broadswords, both, of which, are ignited with red-gold fire. Azula moves just as fast as Zuko, and blue and orange fire collide in a loud explosion. And then they're moving again, graceful and deadly. I watch, transfixed.

I've never seen so much fire.

Azula kicks once, twice, two consecutive bursts of blue flame, and one manages to knock Zuko on his back. I scramble to my feet and start to run forward, but the prince is already up and moving. He takes off toward the golden phoenix, Azula hot on his heels. She uses her fire to propel her forward, gliding across the ground in a fury of blue flames.

I don't know what to do—I can't just stand here and watch! But Zuko just _had_ to challenge her to an Agni Kai, damn him! What happens if I interfere? Would that be considered a dishonor to Zuko?

_Do you have faith that he can win? _I hear a voice ask in my head.

I turn and watch as the prince jumps impossibly high into the air, and slams down with a hard kick, sending a huge wave of fire across the ground at Azula.

_Yes, _I realize, a little distractedly, _I do_.

Still, I run toward the golden phoenix and watch the duel from the safety of the gold metal. I'm still holding Zuko's crown and because I don't know what else to do with it, I shove it into my satchel. I pull out the small knife, the one the prince gave to me, and clutch it tightly in my hand. If Azula wins, I force myself to think, I have to be ready.

I glance nervously at the ring of fire surrounding the Base. If Azula wins, I consider again, I will run through the fire toward the lake, no matter what.

Azula's cold laughter cuts through my reverie. She's floating in the air by the fire under her feet, punching fist after fist toward Zuko. He's rolling across the ground, dodging the attacks. He only has one broadsword left, and Azula is attacking too quickly and intensely for him to try to snatch it off the ground, where it lies some thirty feet away.

"You're not quick enough, Zuzu!" Azula taunts.

Zuko's answer is a hard punch to the ground, sending a rippling effect of fire her way, reminding me oddly of waves breaking the surface. Azula lands on the ground and spreads her arms, parting the approaching fire. She rushes forward, a hand raised back, ready to strike—but Zuko leaps through the air and meets her midway, punching forward a flaming fist of his own.

Their fists collide, blue and orange, and the arena shakes from the impact. Both siblings are blasted backwards—I slam back against the gold metal—and smoke suddenly fills my lungs, the after effect of the collision. When the smoke finally starts to dissipate, I'm able to see a blur of movement, blue and orange fire colliding and hissing once more.

I stagger out of the phoenix, still coughing and gripping the dagger. Two enormous waves collide, soaring up into the air, and the brightness is so intense that I shield my eyes. When I finally lower my arm, my eyes swarm over the arena and land on the princess.

Azula's hair has fallen from its usually pulled back style, now flowing wildly around her face. It's longer than I thought, falling to the middle of her back, curling up at the ends. She looks rabid and feral as she growls and launches an enormous fireball at Zuko; he pulls up his hands, forming a shield of fire, blocking the attack.

They stare at each other from across a far distance, both breathing hard. I can't help but wonder if this is more personal than either has let on. The look they reserve for one another—it's like nothing I have ever seen. Jealousy? Anger? I can't quite place it.

"Nervous?" Zuko asks, sounding winded, but not defeated. He discards his last sword onto the ground and lifts both hands, falling back into a fighting stance.

"Never," Azula snarls. She jumps into the air. All I catch is a series of swift kicks and punches, blast after blast surging toward the prince. This time, he is not quick enough to counteract them. He's hit with a powerful blast and is knocked backwards. He tries to get up, but Azula has already leapt into the air and crashes down on him, pinning him to the ground with a foot to the chest.

I stifle down a scream. A chorus of screams explodes in my head, the voices arguing between running out there and staying put.

"I'm sorry it has to end this way, Brother," Azula says, holding up a ball of fire in her palm.

"No, you're not."

She grins hungrily, a predator closing in on its prey. Just as she delivers the killing blow, Zuko twists from beneath her and gets back on his feet. Her fist hits the ground, putting a burnt dent into the earth. The prince sweeps a foot across the ground, but Azula backflips away from the fire and out of the attack.

The fight drags on and I can't help but feel like my mind is dislodged from my body. Never have I seen a more matched fight than this. The siblings move in sync, countering the other's attacks as if they already knew what the other was going to do. Azula seems to have a little more skill in her movements, more precise and practiced, but Zuko never gives up. Every time she knocks him down, he gets back to his feet. I have no doubts that Azula is more powerful, but the prince is exceptionally solid, like an impenetrable wall. His sheer determination and strong will equally matches her raw power.

The smoke is so intense now that I can't see from where I'm standing, so I run out into the open area until I spot the siblings. They're both standing at separate ends of the clearing, panting, facing one another. I'm close enough to see the dirt and ash on their faces. Azula looks frustrated, more out of control than I've ever seen. Zuko didn't seem to ever have the upper hand—in fact, he was defending himself more than attacking her—but he didn't break beneath her power. I can see in her eyes that she expected him to. There is no more taunting. No more laughter.

Zuko takes a deep breath, looking strikingly calm, not at all the explosive Firebender I remember. But then his expression shifts, not breaking, exactly, but on the verge of cracking.

"What have I done to make you hate me so much?" he says raggedly, somewhere between desperation and awe.

Azula's bottom lip trembles and for a shocking moment, I'm afraid she's going to cry. But, no, she's just furious. "You know why!" she shouts. Her bending stance changes suddenly, more fluid, her arms doing a complicated movement. Then there's a crack and lightning dances at her fingertips. She points forward and the bright, white lightning surges toward the prince.

I scream and run forward, knowing full well that it's impossible, that there's no way I'm fast enough to block the attack.

Zuko staggers backwards from the strong electric current, the lightning consuming him completely. I skid to a halt, horrified, biting my own tongue so I don't scream again—but the prince is _moving_ inside the ripples of lightning. His hands move in the same rhythm as the princess, two fingers pointed out, and then he punches forward. The lightning shoots out of his fingers, away from his body, and soars straight toward the princess; Azula dives out of the way, hitting the ground hard. She looks up at him from the ground, a mess of black hair cascading around her face. Her eyes are wide, awestruck.

"You call that lightning?" Zuko says with soft, manic laughter, somehow sounding both impressed and relieved with himself.

Azula's eyes flash in fury. "Oh, I'll show you lightning!" She jumps back to her feet and summons the lightning—except this time, the current encircles her body, winding up, growing higher and higher until she's completely concealed by the lightning. I can barely make out her gold eyes, the sharpness of her armor, beneath the brightness.

Zuko takes a deep breath and lifts his hands, prepared to fight off the lightning once again. But I can't let him. Azula has too much, the way it's crackling and hissing, growing and moving like it's alive—it's too much. I can see in the way he's holding his arms that he's weakening. He won't be able to fight this off alone.

I take a step toward the prince—even with all the lighting, I see Azula's eyes flicker to me at my movement. Those eyes are ravenous, pinning me where I am. My mind blanks as the princess starts to move. I hear Zuko shout something, as if from far away. I know I should move, but my body is frozen as the blinding light surges toward me.

My eyes are wide with horror as a body hurls into the line of attack. Caught in midair, the lighting engulfs Zuko's entire body. He hangs, suspended above the ground, twitching in the ball of electricity—and then his body slams into the ground. This time, he does not get up. He lies there silently, his body convulsing with electric sparks.

"_Zuko!_" I scream, my voice cracking, and run forward—a ball of blue fire explodes at my feet, sending me backwards.

"How could you kill him! He's your brother!" I don't recognize the shrill of my voice. I dash forward, and another wave of blue fire knocks me back again.

"_I_ didn't kill him—_you_ did!" Azula screams.

The audacity of her statement stuns me, paralyzes me. The princess looks horrified, sickened, and somehow relieved and happy and angry. It's like her emotions have been withheld behind a dam, but it can no longer support the weight, and it all spills forward. After seeing her so indifferent and in control, I don't know what to make of _this_.

Despair and fear threatens to overwhelm me but the fact that a canon hasn't fired keeps me going. Azula pulls at her hair, shouting something into the sky. While she's distracted, I summon all the power and strength I have within and _pull_, pulling the water from the grass around me until a patch of dead brown rests around my feet. I form the water into whips and strike at the princess. She's caught off guard, but her fire is so hot and strong that it deflects my water easily. I flick my wrists again as she starts to move toward Zuko—no doubt to finish him off—and the water slices off the pointed bit of her armor at the shoulder.

The princess jumps back, surprised, and fixates me with an annoyed glare.

She moves with blinding speed. I dive out of the way to avoid her blow. I summon more water, but the princess attacks me so ferociously that I can't use it; instead all my energy goes into dodging. I run to the golden phoenix and press my back against the metal, catching my breath.

"You can't run forever, Nine!" Azula's voice echoes throughout the arena.

"Nine is _not_ my name," I snarl, and jump out from the phoenix, sending sharp ice daggers flying. The princess jumps and spins sideways in the air to avoid the blow, but a dagger still pierces her cheek. When she lands on the ground, a pale hand flies to the blood dripping down her cheek.

I position myself in front of the phoenix, sidestepping away from the princess as she prowls in front of me. "I'm going to enjoy killing you, _Nine_," she says, with deliberate disrespect. The dagger is still in my boot, but I can't go for it. Any movement will result in immediate attack.

My eyes flicker over her shoulder, toward the prince. Still no canon, but he's still not moving.

Azula doesn't miss the exchange. Her eyes darken. "My brother will die a traitorous death because of you."

"He'll die because you killed him." I have to force the words out through clenched teeth.

"Losing an Agni Kai to me would have been honorable." The princess's voice rises, echoing around the arena. "It would have showed the world that I'm the most deserving of the throne. I have what it takes to rule this world!"

"You killed your own brother. You earned it," I say, breathless and exhausted all of the sudden. The energy to pull water from the grass, hearing the motives behind Azula's fight, is all so exhilarating.

The princess's face blanks, and then she gives me a nasty look and summons more lightning with a single hand. I swallow hard, knowing any sudden movement will result in instant death, and knowing this is it for me. I can't redirect the lighting like Zuko did, I'm not a Firebender or a rebounder—

That's it!

The idea comes to me just as Azula strikes forward. I wait a half second and then dive to the side, further than I've ever tried in my life. I cover my head and ears when I hit the ground as the lighting hits the phoenix and bounces back toward its sender. Azula cries out, and a second later I hear a body hit the ground. My body surges with the shock of the current, like it did with Suki, and I'm tingling and aching all over, convulsing.

_No canon_, my brain realizes, and I stagger to my feet, panicked that somehow the princess dodged the blow. I glance around helplessly through the dust and smoke, but I can't see her anywhere—a hand rips into my hair and yanks me backwards, throwing me to the ground. I try to squirm and wriggle free, but strong legs straddle me, pinning me down, and it's like a recurrent nightmare.

_Not again._

"You. Damn. Peasant." Each word is mirrored with a hard slap to my face, but it doesn't just sting from the slap, it stings because the hand that hit me is coated in fire. I can't help but cry out in pain but the princess is too strong. I blink back tears, looking up into those hateful gold eyes. Azula's face is covered with ash, her hair looking more rabid and tangled—this is not the face of the beautiful princess. This is the face of merciless madness.

"You are nothing," she hisses. "A filthy peasant from a worthless province. You cannot beat me, a Master, the princess of the Fire Nation!"

The princess hits me again across the face, so hard that my mind immediately blanks and suddenly a swarm of familiar voices echo inside my head.

"_They will turn on you the moment the opportunity arises. They're the Fire Lord's flesh and blood."_

_"_You have to let him go!"__

_"You'll be dead within the first three days of the Games."_

"_Win. Don't let them win."_

"_Honor is what my brother wants. And the only way he'll get it is if he faces me and he knows it."_

"_Run now and live to fight another day!"_

"_Never hesitate once you've thought—once you know what to do."_

"_I have to win in order to restore something I lost."_

_"We gotta hide out there till we can find a way to Province 13."_

"_If I win, I still lose."_

"_Don't be scared. Everything is going to be alright."_

"_I trust you entirely, but I won't watch you die, either."_

"_Never give up without a fight."_

"_Your life matters to me."_

My eyes snap open—the princess has hit me again, yelling at me to look at her when she's talking. My fingers dig around beneath me, searching, grasping for anything…and to my answered prayers, I feel something hard and cold.

"I'd prefer you to beg for your life, but I really have a ceremony to attend." Azula holds up a hand, her palm glowing with blue fire. "Any last words, Nine?"

Every time a tribute asks me this, I never seem to have any. But not this time.

"Yes, I do." My fingers tighten around the cold metal. "Game over, Princess," I say, and ram the sharp tip of Zuko's crown into her back. I pull it out and slam it into her back again, in a different spot, and drag the crown through her skin, ripping the wound open.

The princess cries out, the fire dissolving in her hand. Her face contorts in pain, her back arching, and then her body crumples forward onto me. By the time I shove her bloody body off mine and get to my feet, a canon goes off.

It's that fast. The princess of the Fire Nation is dead.

I run away from the phoenix, wiping tears from my eyes, unable to rid the terrible guilt and horror I feel about what I had just done. I halt when I see the prince—he's on his knees, head bowed, palms pressed to his thighs.

I run at him hard, and practically slam into him when my knees hit the ground. He crumples forward in my arms and I hold him, supporting his weight.

"Zuko." I'm hit with a thousand things I want to say, but a choked sound escapes my throat. "You're so stupid," I say instead, my voice thick with tears.

I feel his laugh rather than hear it.

"Is…Azula?" His voice comes out in a slur, and it's so soft and childlike that I can't answer him. I can't tell him what I did. Instead I just hold him and say nothing, even though I know he'll know what I'm doing, and what it means. But I just can't say it out loud.

"You…won?" His voice is bleak, something unfamiliar to his tone that I can't place without seeing his face. But I just can't look at him.

I nod against his neck. "I'm so sorry," I whisper.

We fall into silence. I won't pretend to know the relationship between Zuko and Azula, but I know he feels her loss, just like she felt the loss of him being struck by lightning. I feel so terribly awful that tears leak from my eyes and slide down my cheeks.

They must land on the prince's neck because he jerks just a little and says, "Don't cry. You're going to win…Katara."

My hands grasp his shoulders and I shift him back so he's practically sitting on his heels while I still support his weight. All I can focus on suddenly is the gaping, torn fabric at his chest. Where the lightning hit.

"No," I say, and the words just tumble out of me, "I'm going to heal you and you're going to be fine and we'll have our rematch, like you promised."

He smiles, just a little; blood trickles down from the corner of his lips. "You can't."

"Yes, I can! Stop telling me what I can and can't do!"

"And then what?" He struggles to keep his voice steady, and has to blink a few times, like the sun is bothering him. He reaches up and presses his hands on mine as I steady him. "You heal me, and then…what? We try to…kill each other? No. There has to be…a victor. And I'm dying."

_There has to be a victor. The Black Games will never end until there is a single victor_.

And suddenly I know what has to happen. I've been searching for an escape from this inevitable end, but I guess the obvious is sometimes the answer.

_There can only be one victor_.

It's the only way, the only sliver of hope I have, and as I think it now, I _feel_ the pieces of the puzzle coming together.

I keep a hand pressed firmly on Zuko's shoulder, keeping him from falling over. My other hand shakes as I reach down to my boot. I take him by surprise when I plant a swift, chaste kiss on his lips, forcing myself to be quick, otherwise I may never follow through with this.

I lean down so my mouth brushes his ear. "You've saved me in every way that a person can be saved."

"Is this…you saying goodbye?"

If I wasn't so nervous and tense, I might have smiled. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," he says, without hesitation.

"With your life?"

"Yes."

And that's all I need to hear. Because I know in my heart this is the only way, the right way, I find the strength to do what has to be done.

I close my eyes, grip Zuko's dagger in my hand, and shove it through his heart.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Deep breath, readers! I did warn you...you know. There were some inspirations from Titanic in this chapter as well, like the "you saved me" line. I thought it fit perfectly so kudos to James Cameron for that one. I warned you this had a terrible cliffy, so I intend on updating within a couple of days. One more chapter to go!

On an exciting note, another fan has decided to make a trailer for The Black Games! This one is by** T****iny Cherie!** Be sure to check it out because it's awesome! The link is in my profile. :)

**Review Responses:**

**Treacletarts: "Zuko conveys more through his actions than through words and him acting anything like that would completely ruin it."** - Yes, he definitely does. Almost all his "feelings" are expressed through actions rather than words. He's not a word kind of guy, lol.

**ilovethisstory: "who is your favourite character from ATLA?"** - Zuko, of course! I love his journey and everything about him. He made me laugh, he made me angry, he made me sad. I just _felt_ a lot with his character. My top five would be, in no particular order: Zuko, Toph, Sokka, Iroh and Azula. :P

**ChaosHasCome: "The driving force to help that is katara's character doesnt disappear just because her healing does."** - I agree. What makes her strong to me isn't the fact that she could heal in the show, but that drive to never give up and always put others above her. I mean yeah, the healing is really conveinant, but by healing the slow way, the normal way, it sort of makes you appreciate what you went through a bit more.

**Evettian: "Wherever you go in life, I hope that you never stop writing. There are very few fanfiction's on this site that compare to this in quality."** - Thank you so much! I really love to write and I hope I manage to publish a real book. I have some ideas floating around but sadly my muse is still in Zutara mode, haha. But I love fanfiction and I plan on writing for awhile!

**Really Impressed D: "Keep it up and never stop, you will achieve great things, I know it!"** - You guys are so inspirational! lol I swear if I do become a writer I will announce that I wrote these stories first and give a huge shout out to all you readers. I probably wouldn't have continued for as long as I have without all of you. *big hugs*

**lilisangin123: "Are you a Sokka/Suki fan?"** - Yes! I think they're the best written and most compatible ship in the show, actually. I don't hate the idea of older Toph and Sokka though, if Suki didn't exist. lol I wasn't a big fan of Yue/Sokka.

**Midnight4568: "Are you going to continue doing that, since you won't be doing the character questions anymore?"** - Yep! I try to answer questions and comments that I feel should be addressed. :)

**"is the Zuko in this story supposed to have his ponytail, or does he look like his season three self from ATLA?"** - A couple of people have asked me this! lol If Zuko had a ponytail, Katara definitely would have mentioned it. :P I guess I didn't explain it well enough, but it's the style from season 3. Longer and kind of messy.

**Jane Keybored: "This story is so steeped in the original material that it's hard to believe you didn't get through the whole of Mockingjay."** - Well thank you! I really need to read the entire thing but it just makes me so mad, haha. I will definitely read it entirely before publishing the third story in TBG trilogy.

**magdaBlack: "we didn't connected just with katara, even if this is written from her pov we got to know about the other characters, you took to the time to write about them and I think that for a good plot that's essential."** - Thanks! Yeah, I wanted the readers to really sort of feel the impact of the deaths, not just the main characters. It makes you sort of feel more for Katara more as well, since you have an idea of the depth she's going through.

**UVERazn: "I think that's great you want to get a book published :D Will you be going under a pen name?"** - Yes, I probably will. I have an idea of what I'd like it to be, but I probably won't give it out until it's official. Because someone else could take that name..it's not super unique, haha. So I wouldn't want you thinking it was really me when it wasn't, you know?

**"Although the Sparrowkeets confuse me, when did they breed with a sparrow?"** - Hopefully I explain this right..all this crossbreeding is confusing to me too, haha. Mockingkeets were created by the capital, like the jabberjays were in THG. But the Capital couldn't control or keep the Mockingkeets, so these birds live in the wild now. Sparrowkeets are the offspring of male sparrows and female Mockingkeets. So the sparrows were able to mate with the Mockingkeets in nature. Sparrowkeets are actually an ATLA canon bird. I just made up the Mockingkeets. :P

**AnnaAza: "Suki is a resistance member? Was her plan to kill the Fire siblings, and to kill anyone who got in the way (I.e. Katara?)/just to get to the two siblings?"** - More on Suki's backstory in The Rise of One. ;)

**atlaluver: "Is pakku still katara's grandfather?"** - Negative, lol.

**accentric punctuation: "I like your Katara better than Katniss, most of all because of the 'connection' you feel towards other characters."** - Well thank you! I think that stems from the fact that Katara is much more emotional than Katniss, and she grows attached and cares for people easily. I wouldn't say Katara in this story is AS emotional and naive as she is in the series, though.

**"How many chapters do you intend for the sequels to have?"** - I'm shooting for about 20 each. But that's likely to change, haha.

**PLacId: "I can actually read this without feeling it's a carbon copy with simple name changes."** - Thank you! Yeah, the characters from ATLA are so different from THG that the story is going to be different for sure, even with the same basic premise: send 24 kids into a death arena. Plus Ozai is quite different from Snow, so he's going to rule the world differently. It was really fun looking at ATLA and THG to create this AU world. :)

**Little-Miss-X-Gal: "But anyway your story is so cool, although I think it ought to be filed in crossover"** - I considered this, but I didn't think it qualified quite as a crossover since the characters are not crossing over. For example, Katniss is not in the ATLA world and Katara is not in Panem. The "world" is more in the ATLA verse with some THG government similarities. If that makes sense lol.

**bballsoccer1217: "Out of curiosity will your sequels be like Catching Fire and/or Mockingjay? If so I don't know if I could get through all that Katniss melodramatic-ness again."** - There will be some similar plotlines, but Katara is not Katniss so her reactions/behaviors will be different. :) For example, Katniss spends a lot of her time in the games wondering about how she should act because of the people watching. Katara barely considers the rest of the world and does what she wants. :P

**Crazichi123: "This was SO original and NOTHING like that at all and I'm so glad I decided to read it!"** - Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it. :) The characters are really the driving force behind where the story goes, which is why there are tons of differences in this and THG.

**"Is there going to be Zutara in the next two stories, or will they just be an ATLA fic with no shipping?"** - There will be shipping, but I won't say if it's Zutara or others. :P

**Sisters from hell: "I love how in the character questions you make Zuko seem completly above all but here in the story he has such a soft heart even though her tries to fight it." -** Yeah this really comes back to what I said in one of the responses above. Zuko doesn't express himself verbally very well, but he does with his actions. He's also very conflicted, like in the show, and that comes aross in his words and actions as well.

**Victorioushouseofnightfan: "What was the symbol on the pendant that Suki was wearing?"** - That will also be revealed in the sequel, The Rise of One!

**XxUrBadLuckCharmxX: "I love how Katara doesn't give up, she's a fighter, and she's showed amazing strength."** - That's one of the things I really liked with her character. Often times "strength" is determined by physical strength, when there's so much more to it. Zuko is physically very strong, but not so much emotionally. Katara is the opposite, more emotionally strong than physical. Even in the show, she holds the gang together in ways that no one else could, simply because she's emotionally strong.

**Tiny Cherie: "I think that Azula does care about Ty Lee to a certain extent."** - I would say Ty Lee was the closest thing Azula has felt to a "friend" than she has in a long time. Azula likes being worshipped and loyalty, and Ty Lee was the perfect example of that. She never questioned Azula, she followed orders, and tried as hard as she could to please her. That, along with her personality, left an impression on Azula.

**LookMeInTheStars: "Still taking character responses?"** - I'm going to hold off on these for awhile since the plot is quite intense right now. Everyone would want to ask spoilery questions! lol


	37. Victor

**A/N:** In light of the cruel cliffy last chapter and the fact that we reached over 1,000 reviews (OMG!), I would like to present the final chapter of The Black Games, early. :) Also if you are interested, I edited the last chapter with review responses. Enjoy!

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><p>"The phoenix hope can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune's spite, revive from ashes and rise."<p>

- _Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_

**Chapter 35 - Victor**

When I was about seven or eight, there was a snow day. Not like the normal winter snows of Province 9, but one where the snow consumes the streets and the houses, locking us up in a wall of icy tundra. I didn't have to go to school that day, and my dad couldn't go to work. Sokka and I found a way to dig out of our hut, and we decided to make a snow fort. We called it our "secret hideout" and we played in there all day. It felt safe inside our hideout, like the rest of the world couldn't see us, or hear us. They couldn't hurt us. The Capital didn't matter, nothing mattered, and for once, we felt free and safe. But as the day passed, it got cold, so cold I could barely breathe. The icy walls no longer felt safe.

I felt trapped.

My mind started to churn slowly, like a machine losing its steam, and I was so _tired_. I remember Sokka yelling at me, like he had something so important to say, yet I could barely keep my eyes open. I saw his lips moving, but I couldn't hear the words. I was too numb and cold, trapped inside an unbreakable force. Nothing could reach me.

Right at this moment, I'm back in the hideout, trapped in an icy cold that I cannot break free from. Guards and Elites are shouting at me, forcing me to move, dragging me away by the arm, but I can't hear or feel them. I can't even _look_ at them. My eyes are frozen on the body a few feet away, a body that isn't breathing or moving. A body resting in a pool of blood.

_You did this_, a voice says to me.

That's when I heave. Nothing but bile comes up, and my body wretches and aches all over. I fall to my knees, my legs completely giving out. My vision blurs and tilts sideways, obscuring the arena. All I can see now is a red haze surrounding a body that remains oddly clear in my blurry vision.

An arm hooks under my armpit and drags me to my feet. Several feet away, a Guard lifts the prince gently into his arms. This is when my brain finally starts working again and I know I have to _move_.

Without hesitation, I bring up my elbow and upper cut the Guard holding me and lunge toward Zuko. I make it past another Guard—ducking under his arms, a swift kick to his torso—before two other Guards catch me by the arms and haul me backwards. I scream Zuko's name, over and over, my voice strangled and heavy with tears. His arm dangles from the Guard's hold, lifeless.

"Zuko!" I shout again, but he doesn't move. Doesn't acknowledge me yelling for him.

_You did this_.

I'm taken up into an airship. I fight and claw and scream every step of the way, but the grip of the Guards is too strong for me to break. Their armor too thick to penetrate. As the basket carries us up, my eyes are cast down, and I can see Azula's body lying across the ground, Zuko's golden crown sticking out of her back. Another Guard lifts her limp body into his arms. Her hair falls like a torrent of black water around her face, lifeless, out of control. A distant part of me notes she has such lovely hair, and it's a shame she never wore it down.

_You did this_.

My knees give out, and the only weight supporting me now is from the two Guard's holding me under the arms. It hurts, but not as much as my chest.

When we reach the airship, one of the Guards practically throws me into a room without a word. A swarm of white robed people surround me, too suddenly for my comfort. My mind automatically goes into defense mode and I lash out, striking the nearest person in the chest, sending her flying backwards into a wall. Another goes down with a backhand to the face.

I make it back to the door and launch it open. Despite the aching I feel all over and the fact that I know I'm currently not quite sane and hysterical, one thought rings clearly in my mind: I have to find Zuko before it's too late.

I'm out the door, sprinting. A person in white robes seems to materialize out of thin air, and I stare at her down the corridor of the airship. One person? No problem at all. I start moving forward, when something sharp pokes into my arm.

"Oh," I say, bewildered. I stumble into the wall, blinking away blackness, and the ship tilts. Someone catches me before I hit the ground, and then I see Zuko's face. His beautiful, strong, lovely face. Those golden eyes piercing right through me. But he's sad, bloody tears running down his cheeks.

_You did this_.

"I'm so sorry," someone whispers. I think it's me.

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><p>I don't remember going to sleep or blacking out, but when I wake, for some reason it feels like a surprise. I don't open my eyes. I focus on breathing in and out, the simple rise and fall of my chest, almost like I need to hear the sound to believe I'm alive. Burning light pounds behind my eyelids. When I finally crack an eye open, I'm blinded by white. White walls, white door, white flaming candles. No windows, no door handle, no way out. The air is sharp and sterile, nothing like the familiar smell of wood and smoke and nature of the arena. A distant part of my brain notes that I'm only wearing a sarashi under the covers. My hand moves to my throat.<p>

Both necklace's are gone.

I immediately try to sit up, but I don't get very far, because some sort of restraining band has my wrists tied to the armrests of the bed. My mind goes back to its animalistic state it was in during the Games and I panic, starting to thrash against the bindings, not caring how I'm breaking skin by trying to free myself. When the white door opens, that's when I finally stop moving; a woman in white steps inside the room, carrying a small silver tray. She eyes me warily, like I'm a wild animal that might attack if she gets too close.

"How are you feeling, Katara?" she finally asks, behind a pair of thick black spectacles that magnify her grey eyes. Those eyes immediately remind me of Aang.

I look away, knowing my voice will crack if I answer.

"I am assigned as one of your healers," she goes on patiently. "My name is Su."

_Healer_, I think, putting together the word with her robes. The people dressed in white. Not attackers.

Su looks a bit younger than my dad with a round, soft pale face. Brown hair is piled on top of her head into a tight bun. She seems unsurprised by my nonresponsive behavior. I wonder how many other victors she's treated. Are we all this detached and mistrusting?

The healer sets the tray on my lap and takes the porcelain lid off a serving dish. Steam rises from the broth, making my mouth water at the smell. Su takes the teapot and pours brown liquid into a small, delicately crafted cup. "This will help with the pain," she says gently. "Drink and eat slowly."

Funny, I haven't really noticed the aching until she mentions _pain_. I start to tell her I can't really eat anything with my arms tied, but she beats me to it. Gently, she starts undoing the tight knots around my wrists—I flinch under her touch.

_She's not going to hurt you_, someone says to me, and then I relax a little.

"There are two Guards outside your door," Su says reasonably, like this is a common thing I should suspect, "and quite a bit more down the corridor. I implore you to be sensible before you act brashly."

So, that's why she's untying me, then. Because I can't go anywhere even if I try to flee from this room. I eye the silver spoon next to my bowl, my mind whirling. A spoon could be useful as a weapon, able to dig slowly into the skin, painfully, drawing out the blood. I wonder if I could use it to pry open the door. Or, it could be used for the obvious, a much better eating utensil than dirty hands.

_She's not going to hurt you_.

I look away from the spoon.

"Drink," Su orders gently, rising with the bindings in hand.

I lift the cup and take a tiny sip. It's some sort of tea, a bit bitter for my taste.

"I've cleaned most of your wounds," says Su, seeming satisfied with my cooperation. "We've put a healing remedy into your blood stream, hopefully warding off any infection you might have gotten. You'll be a little sore for the next week, probably a couple bruises and a scar on the back of your neck and that cheek, but nothing serious. You did a reasonable job sealing the incision on your cheek—it would have been much worse if you hadn't had the supplies. You're very lucky."

Lucky. Not a word I'd use in any form of my life.

"Is my dad here?" My voice is weaker than I expect. I clear my throat, embarrassed. "Where am I?"

"You're at the Capital," says Su. She fidgets a little, tucking a piece of brown hair back into her bun. "Arrangements are being made for the deaths of the prince and princess, as well as your presentation as the victor. Your father will be watching from Province 9, and you will return to your home shortly after the ceremonies."

Suddenly the room is too small, and I'm finding it hard to breath. I swallow hard, my stomach twisting in knots. I'm glad I haven't touched the broth yet. "How long have I been here?" I ask.

"The Games ended three days ago."

Three days. I've been asleep for three whole days. Have I really, or did they keep me under on purpose? It feels way too long either way. Though, I suppose that's around the usual lag time between the end of the Games and the presentation of the victor. The Capital needs to tame us wild victors, put some food back in our bellies, and make us look like we've had the time of our life. Just another trophy to add to the shelves.

There's never been a royal death in the Games, though, at least not since I've been alive. My dad told me once that royal funerals are a public display, not the quiet, surrounded by close family and friend's type like we have in Province 9. Of course the Capital would take the time to prepare the funerals for not one, but two royal siblings.

Their prince and princess. The heir to the throne and his sister, killed by me, the victor of the Black Games. Was it a merciless twist of irony, or was fate just that cruel? It isn't a secret how much the Capital and Fire Provinces worship the Games. How they enjoys watching the bloodshed like it's the world's greatest entertainment. How do they feel now, though, losing their prince and princess to the Games?

_You wanted the Capital to hate the Games_, a voice says. _Congratulations, maybe you finally did it. Are you proud now?_

I heave again, thankfully snatching the bin that's been placed by my bed in time. More bile, burning my throat raw. Su rushes to my side, pulling my hair from my face. When there's nothing more for me to throw up, not even bile, I sink back into the sheets, wiping my mouth and eyes. Someone is yelling just beyond the room, a rough, piercing sort of voice. A man's, definitely. There's a familiarity to it, yet I can't place it for the life of me. It's too distant.

"You need to rest," the healer instructs, fluffing my pillow. "I will inform your team you are awake, but I'm not sure if you're ready for visitors just yet."

Visitors? I brighten and force myself to sit up.

"Can I see them? Please?" I plead. "I'm feeling much better."

Su raises a brow and looks to the floor. In the rushed movements of my heaving, I must have knocked the tray to the ground, the broth spilling onto the floor in a clear puddle. Oops.

The male voice is closer now, just behind the door. It's louder, much more pronounced, and I finally recognize it.

"Pakku?" I murmur, straining in my bed. Su looks alarmed and starts shuffling toward the door. "Pakku!" I shout, louder this time. "I'm in here!"

The door bangs open before the healer has a chance to secure it. Pakku rushes in, a blur of arctic blue, and gives Su a piercing stare that could thaw all of Province 9.

"Is there a reason I was not informed my tribute is awake?" he asks her coldly.

Su stutters. "She has only just awoken, Master Pakku. She's not ready for visitors yet; she can barely sit up without losing her stomach!"

"I'm fine!" I argue, but they both ignore me. The two Guards the healer had warned me about stand intimidatingly at the door. I wonder briefly how Pakku managed to get them to open it, or if he had to use force.

"Your services are much appreciated, Lady Su, but I require a private word with Katara." He barely glances at me, but his eyes are a warning. "She will be of no more trouble, I assure you. I will send for you the moment she goes ill, but I daresay she deserves a little reassurance and normality."

I have no idea what he means. Su seems to, though. She gives a rough bow, mumbling under her breath. "You are always so impatient, Pakku," she scolds, and shuffles out with the two Guards.

When the door closes, Pakku stares at it a moment before turning to me. I can't read the expression on his face and find myself no longer worried about falling under his scrutiny. I raise my chin, squaring my shoulders—the best I can from my position— and look at him with an unflinching stare.

"You brave, stupid girl," he finally says, and by the heavens, I swear his lips twitch almost into a smile. "You proved me wrong."

It's like our very first meeting all over again. I remember him telling me I had to prove myself, and I had yelled back venomously. I sounded so childish then, like a little brat throwing a tantrum. It feels like the conversation happened so long ago.

"You were right, though," I say softly. "Tough isn't enough."

I finally get what he meant, what he had been trying to teach me all along. Being tough isn't enough to win the Games. It's so much more than that, so much courage, and hope, and perseverance. Being strong on the outside and the inside, never letting yourself surrender; not even when you want to. Suki was tough. Mai was tough. But it wasn't enough for either of them.

"I wish I wasn't." Pakku frowns, looking more lost than I've ever seen him look. "Doesn't really feel like winning, does it?"

And suddenly I'm lost in a sea of loss. I think of Aang, the way he died with a smile on his face, and I can only hope he got his wish, that his death did not hurt. I think of Toph, who bravely attempted escape, and may or may not have made it. Either way, she is dead to the world. I think of Sokka—my best friend, my brother—someone I can never replace, gone forever. I think of Zuko, the prince of the Fire Nation, watching the life leave his eyes as I ended it.

_Even if I win, I still lose. _

"No," I say quietly, a tear slipping down my cheek. "There is no victor in the Black Games."

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><p>The next day I'm allowed to see the rest of my team, now that I'm nearly fully functioning and not trying to kill anything that moves in my direction. June pulls me into the prep room of the Royal Plaza, and it's like a sense of déjà vu. Being back here makes me feel like I'm preparing for the Games all over again. I have to keep reminding myself it's over and I'm never going back into that arena again.<p>

June had taken all my belongings once I was brought back here, keeping them safe for me. My satchel, Aang's bison whistle, my mother's pendant, Yue's necklace. There must have been nothing particular about Yue's necklace to her—or any of the healers, it seems—because she didn't say anything, but when I slip it over my head, I know it's different. I know what I have to do, too. The only question is how, and when.

After I bear an hour of painful skin scrubbing, Nina and the other artists get to work on my hair and make-up. While I complained here and there last time, I endure the entire ordeal without a word, listening to their mindless chatter. Somehow complaining about being cleaned and dressed up seems trivial in comparison to what I've faced in the last few weeks. Once I'm plucked and ready for dinner, June slips a red and gold dress over me. I raise a brow at her, at the colors, at the design of it all.

"Didn't know I was turning into a bird," I say, because the skirt of the dress looks like silky red feathers, sparkled with flecks of gold.

"Well, you sort of are," says June. "After your little stunt with the phoenix, the Capital went crazy. You were suddenly the favorite, the underdog. They kept calling you the Phoenix. The way you never die—rise from the ashes and all that."

I run my hands down the smooth texture of the dress, frowning in the mirror. I don't look like me at all. Not because of the small, thin scar on my cheek, the make-up, the dress or the hair—it's just me in general. My cheeks are hollow, the lines in my face more prominent and sharp. Blue eyes piercingly cold without an ounce of warmth. There's an edge and hardness to my reflection, and I'm not smiling. I wonder if I ever will again.

I turn away from the mirror.

"What about Zuko and Azula?" I force myself to ask. "Surely they were the favorites."

"Oh, they were, but you were as well. So you can imagine the buzz around here those last couple of days and—" She pauses in the middle of tying up the back. I see the hesitation in her eyes, reflecting back at me. Tough, blunt June, looking hesitant. Something I never thought I'd see. "Listen, about Prince Zuko…"

I step out of her reach, because somehow standing still is too hard. "Let's just not talk about him. Or the Games at all."

"Are you sure?" June purses her dark, red-black colored lips.

_No. Because I want to save Zuko, and I don't know what to do, but I know you'll think I'm crazy. Because if I do manage to save him, I'll probably break a dozen laws and be put on some sort of assassination list. Because bringing back the dead is impossible, and even if I can, I have no plan afterwards. And I can't drag you into my madness._

"I'm sure," I say.

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><p>The rumble from the crowd reminds me of a stormy night back at home. Just beyond the double doors awaits the people of the Capital and surrounding Fire Provinces, the ones who can pay to come out and see me, the victor. My team has just been announced, and I'm up next. I can hear the sharp voice of Fire Lord Ozai, but can't quite make out his words. His speech must be terribly awkward. He must show support of the Games by supporting me, but at the same time, it might sound like he's dishonoring the death of his children. The children <em>I<em> killed.

I'm glad I'm not in his position and quite frankly, I really don't want to face him. Or the Capital, for the matter. I feel so nervous and sick I can barely stand still. Around me is a half dozen Guards. On the balconies of the Royal Palace are more Guards. Hama and Pakku tell me there's never been a more controversial victor than me. Half the world loves me, half hates me.

I don't blame them. I feel conflicted about myself as well.

I don't have to give a speech but I'll be interviewed by Qin Lee again. I'm hoping this will be my last time. I haven't really thought of it before now, but since I'm a victor, I'll be up for consideration of mentoring upcoming tributes for Province 9—sixteen, does that make me the currently youngest victor?—and I'll have to come back to the Capital again if I'm chosen. The Games never really end for me, do they? The sheer thought of having someone's life in my hands makes me want to scream and run away.

The sound of bending metal breaks through my inner dilemma and I glance over my shoulder. The Guards surrounding me are bent over in a bow of respect at the approaching figure, the one coming straight towards me.

He's about the height of my brother. Wide frame, stocky, muscles showing beneath red and black armor. Pale skin with glimmering gold eyes, and black hair pulled back on top of his head. His face is familiar; the resemblance is there, but that's not what makes me stare. It's what's on his head that makes my stomach twist in guilt, shame, and torment.

"Lady Katara, we meet at last," says the figure, holding out a hand. "Officially, that is. I am Prince Lu Ten."

"I know who you are." The words fly out before I can stop myself. I thrust my hand out eagerly to make up for my outburst and give a shaky, awkward sort of bow. "I mean, who doesn't?"

"The same can be said for you, of course," says Lu Ten, forcing a very tight smile. "Our newest victor. I believe congratulations are in order."

His politeness is astounding, even if it's strained. He must be furious with me for killing his cousin—no, wait—_cousins_. Can I blame him? My eyes wander back to the shining gold on his head.

"You're wearing Zuko's crown," I say, thinking aloud, feeling a little sick when I consider how bloody it's been and _where_ it's been.

"Ah, yes," says Lu Ten, a little guiltily, his façade wavering. "Well, this crown actually belongs to the Crowned Prince of the Fire Nation. As you killed the last one and his successor, I am the last of the royal bloodline, and heir to the throne now. I suppose it's a good thing you can't go back into the arena and I'm too old, huh? Otherwise I might be in trouble."

His bluntness almost shakes me. He's angry. I can see it brewing behind his golden eyes. Maybe he doesn't believe in the Black Games. Maybe he's angry his uncle sent his cousins into the Games in the first place. Maybe he's angry at me for killing them. From his perspective, I'd hate me, too. I hate me from _my_ own perspective. I wonder, though, if he'd believe my true motives, if I could trust him enough to tell him. He was Zuko's cousin, after all. Won't he want to help save him if there's a way? Surely he will.

_But not here._

Suddenly, a loud burst of applause from behind the doors shakes the ground, and I feel my heart jump into my throat.

Lu Ten holds out an arm, ever the gentlemen. "I am your escort for the evening, for _your protection_, of course. Wouldn't want anything bad happening to our newest victor, would we?"

"Your concern is gratifying," I say dryly, but slip my arm into his anyway, "but I can take care of myself."

"You sure can," he says, and then the doors open and we're stepping in front of the cheering crowd.

I have to squint and shield my eyes with a hand, the bright glow of the fireworks blinding me. They're shooting off in all directions, echoing against the roaring crowd. There's so many faces below the plaza that I'm immediately overwhelmed. So many Watchers, Guards, citizens. I can't make out the booing from the cheering. A man breaks through the ranks, carrying a long sword and shouting at everyone to get out of his way, charging, I'm sure of it, at me. He barely makes it fifteen feet when a Guard knocks him to the ground with a punch to the throat.

It's too much.

"I don't want this." I feel myself starting to pull back but Lu Ten tightens his grip, halting me.

"Why?" He looks sideways at me, his eyes very cold despite the warmth of color. "You've earned it."

I turn back to the raving crowd. _Step up and claim your prize_, _Katara_. Only, I don't feel like I deserve a prize. I don't feel like a victor at all. I feel like I've lost everything. Not just people I care about but parts of myself. I should have never won the Black Games. I should have taken my life, just to show the Capital that I'd rather die than participate in their little game.

When Lu Ten leads me forward, I feel despair wash over me, wrapping around me like a heavy blanket. People are screaming at me. Some are ecstatic, holding up blue Province 9 flags and cheering my name, others are furious, cursing and throws fists into the air. Yet somehow above the loud jeering from the crowd I manage to hear it. A stunning, silky melody that rings crystal clear. The crowd hears it too, and starts to quiet, glancing up at the sky.

That's when I see it. A flash of crimson and gold against the last burning embers of the sky. A phoenix. And she's singing beautifully. Despite how horrible I feel, the song is so beautiful and _personal_ that I almost smile, feeling like she might just be singing for me.

A sudden rush of affection floods into me: I see my dad, my brother, an imagined face of my mother. Those who love me, and those who will love me, no matter what I have done. And somewhere in the phoenix's song, I feel hope, and I can hear another voice in my head saying _you can do this, Katara_.

I lift my chin proudly against the last dying sounds of the phoenix's song, prepared to face the Capital, to face whatever may come, because I will not surrender now and I will bring him back.

If a phoenix can rise from its ashes, so can I.

_The end_

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><p><strong>AN:** Wow, we finally made it to the end! I can't believe it. I just want to say THANK YOU to everyone for sticking with me through this story. I cannot express my gratitude for your enthusiasm and positive feedback. It kept me writing, honestly. I've been blessed to have such wonderful readers, so thank you for that.

About the sequel: As a reminder, it's called **The Rise of One**, and will begin a few days after this chapter ends. I need to plan it out properly before I post anything. It's a more complex plot than this story was, so please be patient. :P Remember you can always follow me on Tumblr. Since I won't be editing this with questions you might have AFTER reading this final chapter, Tumblr is the best/easiest place to ask. (And I love answering your questions!) Now, I'm _hoping_ to post chapter 1 in May. So a couple of weeks. There will be shipping, there will be action, there will be a new "gang" so to say. I'm very excited about it!

**The 75th Annual Black Games in order of death**

Nato - Province 10 - Killed by Suki

Ming - Province 10 - Killed by Chan

Nori - Province 11 - Killed by Jet

Song - Province 6 - Killed by Chan

Akio - Province 3 - Killed by Longshot

Dachi - Province 12 - Killed by Mai

Maya - Province 4 - Killed by Haru

Longshot - Province 4 - Killed by Suki

Jiro - Province 5 - Killed by Sokka

On Ji - Province 3 - Killed by Toph

Haru - Province 7 - Killed by Matsu

Smellerbee - Province 6 - Killed by Mai

Chan - Province 2 - Killed by Zuko

Aang - Province 11 - Killed by Azula

Matsu - Province 8 - Killed by Zuko

Mai - Province 2 - Killed by Azula

Jet - Province 6 - Killed by Katara

Sokka - Province 9 - Killed by Jet

Toph - Province 8 - Killed by unknown

Ty Lee - Province 5 - Killed by Suki

Suki - Province 12 - Killed by Azula

Azula - Province 1 - Killed by Katara

Zuko - Province 1 - Killed by Katara

Katara - Province 9 - Victor

**Review responses:**

**anon: "NOOOOO! Zuko can't die! He just can't! He has to live!"** - This seems to be the overall consensus, haha. I did find it amusing how many people wondered if Zuko was going to be okay. Most people don't recover from being stabbed in the heart..lol. He's not walking away from that one, especially after taking the lightning.

**Crazichi123: "I LOVE Azula and Zuko's relationship in the series. It's so deep and complicated and nothing like siblings should be. This chapter really portrayed that very well."** - Thank you! I love their relationship, too. With this story I was inspired by the Joker and Batman in The Dark Knight when the Joker says "I don't want to kill you! What would I do without you? You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness. And I won't kill you because you're just too much fun." Azula wanted the throne, but she didn't want Zuko to be dead for her to claim it. Not because she loved him, exactly, but because she wouldn't know what to do without him to pick on, taunt, mock, etc. It really is an odd relationship lol.

**"I was REALLY sad when both Cato and Azula died, even though they were the villains and I really wasn't supposed to be."** - I was sad Cato died as well. I personally didn't like the fact that the Careers were supposed to be the villains, just like I don't consider Azula a villian in this story, either. She's "against" Katara, true, but so are the other tributes. Everyone is a pawn, fighting for their life. The real villain is Ozai and the capital, just like Snow and his capitol. I made a huge defensive post about the Careers on tumblr so I'm not going to go into it here...haha. But yeah, Katara realizes Azula isn't the villain too, I think, which is why she feels bad about killing her. I'm not sure Katniss felt bad about killing Cato.

**MayMay7: "Okay so, she stops his heart and waits for the cannon, then she will be the winner, before healing him like a boss. Right?"** - Well, even if the water did appear, and it does have the ability to bring back someone's life (which we don't know either for sure), Katara couldn't have done it in the arena. Otherwise this story would have ended very badly. :P (Or worse, depending on how you see the ending)

**Alexia Udinov: "Promise if you ever do publish a book to let us know the title and your pen name"** - I will for sure! :)

**Patmaheiny: "I also love the references you made to actual Azula/Zuko showdowns from the show."** - Thanks! That was really a huge inspiration for this chapter. I wanted to tie that with this. :)

**Ciel: "Katara outwitted Azula here just as she did in the last episode of Avatar."** - Yes! Another thing I wanted to keep similar with the final Agni Kai from the show. Katara could never beat Azula with pure skill, but she's clever, like Sokka. And Azula underestimates those who are not as physically powerful as her.

**PLacId: "I seriosuly thought she was going to kill herself..."** - A lot of people thought this, apparently! lol I've read a couple of reviews where they said they had to re-read it because they thought Katara killed herself. She could have, I suppose, but Zuko was already dying. I'm not sure he could have been saved in time. Katniss pulls the berry stunt so they have no victor, but Ozai wouldn't have stopped Katara from killing herself. If there's no victor, there's no victor. But there could only be one.

**Dakota: "Woah...I thought you couldn't use the tokens as weapons?"** - Technically you could take off your shirt and use it to strangle someone to death, lol. Anything can be used as a weapon, but the tributes couldn't bring items into the arena that are CREATED as weapons. Like knives, swords, etc. They can, however, have them sent in as gifts from sponsors.

**AnnaAza: "Katara killing Zuko, I think, was an act of mercy. He was suffering, and he was right."** - Exactly. There really was no other way. :(

**Serenity Jones: "I thought Katara would use her healing thingy for Zuko, and... and..."** - This is where the problem lies, and the point Zuko made as well. And then what? lol

**ChaosHasCome: "If you were to publish a novel right now, at this minute, I would not hesitate to read it. You could probably write about the inner mechanics of a toaster and make it sound interesting."** - HAHA I will keep that in mind! The inner mechanics of a toaster...lmao.

One last thank you to everyone! Until next time...:)


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